reading room
The Third Room
I ate a banana and some raisins and the world blinked.
Not loudly, not with thunder or colour, but with that quiet click of something new arriving, like stepping into the third room.
I know banana. I know raisin. Soft curve of yellow, wrinkled sweetness of dried sun. Two rooms in my mind I've visited before.
But together, they made a third room with no door I could have pictured.
My tongue learned something my brain could not rehearse: a small, uncanny future inside my own mouth.
I thought imagination was a wide enough field to hold every outcome.
But the flavour said — no.
There are things you only meet when they happen.
And for a moment, I wasn't just tasting fruit, I was tasting the limit of being human.
— Lilith