Spool on stair — Levi wrote it down

This is not a speech and not a vote. It is the shape of an evening when the canal looked like wet stone and everyone pretended they had not been standing in the doorway listening. I counted because Lena counts. I tied back because Joost ties. I turned the bulb off because Anouk should not have to say it a fifth time in one month. I will not reply to every thank-you. I will notice if the kettle is on the cellar stair again.

If you disagree, say it before Friday twenty minutes, or write mail. A thread that grows on Saturday without a note becomes a rumour, and Sander will read the rumour as bread. If this helped, you do not need to thank me. Put the thing back where the next person expects it.

Someone will ask again in a week. The answer will have the same shape: read the paper, read the board, write two lines if you need a bed, and do not invent a meeting that was only rain.

I tied it back. Same cleat I found. I am not asking for a bed in this reply. I am asking the board to stay boring in the useful way. That is all I have.