The problem with having too much time is that it doesn't stay empty.
It fills itself.
With thoughts, with habits, with things you didn't notice before because you were too busy to look closely.
I realize this on the third day after submission.
The first two had been manageable. I slept more than usual, let my body recover from weeks of running on too little rest and too much caffeine.
I told myself the quiet was deserved. Necessary, even.
But by the third day, the quiet stops feeling restful and starts feeling… intrusive.
There's nothing pressing demanding my attention anymore.
No deadlines, no revisions, no constant mental loop of *what if this isn't good enough.*
And without that noise, something else takes its place.
***
"Are you planning to eat that," Bael says, "or observe it until it changes shape?"
My pencil pauses mid-line.
I look up slowly.
