"I'm okay," the voice on the recording said, softer now. "I'm here. I'm solid."
As the 12-minute file reached its end, the background noise changed. He heard the distant siren of a city he no longer lived in. touching myself (audio only).m4a
"I’m recording this because I’m starting to forget what I feel like," a voice whispered. It was his own voice, but younger—sharper. "I'm okay," the voice on the recording said, softer now
Elias sat still in his darkened office, listening to the ghost of who he used to be. The younger Elias described the texture of his own sweater, the weight of his watch, the way his pulse felt against his thumb. It was a desperate attempt to prove he existed during a year when he had felt invisible. the weight of his watch