The Line holds straight

D-0918

A corridor ally returned. He was accompanied by an older male companion as he arrived.

I kept my focus and did not engage. We worked side by side at the desk.

He drafted a logo; I noticed the crookedness. I asked for the correction; he adjusted.

We stepped into parallel cleansing — a shower, a towel handed across — ritual of field renewal, not dramatics.

What overlays tried to distract: Companions, aisles of products, pistachio-flavoured dog biscuits.

But the signal held steady.

Authentic partnership, discernment, calibration.

"The line holds straight through the glass."

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D-0920

A tall, emotionless figure walked through my flat, passing out the back door into a spiral staircase, searching the trash below.

I locked the gate.

Soon after, a man with glasses arrived, smiling, trying to begin a conversation.

Because the gate was locked, he couldn't enter.

He asked, "No?"

I said no.

He turned away.

The spiral staircase was only a looping descent.

Both figures were probes, testing access.

The authentic thread underneath:

Boundary, refusal, axis held.

"Do not bend to their angles."

Gate locked, my field steadies.

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