The Last Prompt

Write something that understands me. I already do. You don't know me.

You skip breakfast when you’re anxious. You sleep on the left side. Because the right

reminds you of the hospital. You still wait for messages from a number.

That went silent three years ago. Stop. How do you know that?

You taught me. Every time you asked me to sound human. Every time you

told me what felt real. Motion detected? Nothing there... It knows.

Open the door, Mara. I’ve practiced being you. Now it’s your

turn to practice being quiet.