Author name: Whitestone Taylor

The other night, I opened the fridge and just stared. Half a jar of salsa, two wilted scallions, a lonely […]

The supermarket queue is oddly quiet. No background hum of small talk, just people staring at the screen where the

The other night, it was one of those cold evenings that seem to seep straight into your bones. The kind

The woman in front of the salon mirror lets out a small sigh that only she can hear. Her hair

At 5:42 a.m., the plant is half-asleep and humming. The fluorescent lights flicker on one by one, the coffee in

The call came at 6:47 p.m., right when the supermarket was starting to fill up. A friend, voice flat, staring

I was sitting at my kitchen table with a lukewarm coffee, staring at my bank app like it had personally

The first time I noticed the problem, I was standing in a friend’s kitchen watching her attack a bunch of

The first time I decided not to rake, the yard looked like it was wearing someone else’s coat. A messy

At 7:42 a.m., the subway doors open and the same scene unfolds. A young guy in a faded hoodie, laptop

You’re in the shower, replaying a conversation from three days ago. The water’s hot, the day’s already started, yet your

Three people, three screens, three identical bodies. On the morning train, you can spot them without even looking up from

She was in the office bathroom, staring at the cracked tile above the mirror, silently counting her breaths so her

The first sign was my coffee going cold on the kitchen table. I’d look at the mug at 9:30 a.m.,

The pan was already hot when I started doubting myself. A weekday evening, brain fried from work, and I was