Touching Myself (audio Only).m4a -

The audio wasn’t what the title suggested. It wasn't a confession or an act of vanity. It was a sensory inventory. In the recording, Elias listened to his past self describe the physical world as if he were a ghost trying to anchor himself to it.

"The desk is cold. It’s oak, I think. My knuckles are dry from the winter air. I’m touching the scar on my palm from that summer in Maine—it feels like a ridge of smooth wax." touching myself (audio only).m4a

The audio cut out. Elias looked down at his hands, now older and marked by different winters. He reached out and touched the edge of his desk, the wood grain rough under his fingertips. He felt the ridge of the scar on his palm. The audio wasn’t what the title suggested