You open the jar.

It is glass. Thin. Fragile. Inside, the honey. Thick. Amber. Sticky.

You are in the office. Late. The lights hum. A low drone. It vibrates in your teeth.

The jar sits on the desk. Before you. You did not bring it. You do not remember buying it.

You look at your hands. They are steady. Too steady.

You twist the lid. It resists. Then it yields. A small pop. The scent rises. Sweet. Heavy. Cloying.

It smells like your mother’s kitchen.

It smells like the day she left.

You reach in. Your fingers dip into the gold. It clings to you. Warm. It feels alive.

You pull out a finger. A drop falls. It hits the white blotter. It spreads. A dark stain.

You watch it.

You are a clerk. You process forms. You file papers. You are efficient. You are quiet. You are no one.

But the honey is there.

And the mirror on the wall.

You see your face. Pale. Thin. Tired.

You see the honey on your finger.

You lick it.

It is sweet. It is bitter. It is the taste of silence.

You remember the argument. The shouting. The plates breaking.

She stood by the door. She held a bag. She looked at you. She did not say goodbye. She just looked.

You were young. You wanted to stop her. You wanted to break the door. You wanted to conquer the exit.

You did not.

You let her go.

Now you are here. Alone. With the jar.

You dip your finger again.

You look at the mirror.

In the reflection, the room shifts. The desk disappears. The papers vanish.

There is only the table. The kitchen table.

And she is there.

She is young. She is beautiful. She is angry.

She holds a knife.

You do not hold one.

You look at your hand. It is empty.

She looks at you. Her eyes are cold.

You try to speak.

No sound comes out.

You look down at your hand.

It is full of honey.

It is dripping.

It is falling onto the floor.

You realize then.

You are not in the office.

You are in the kitchen.

You are the boy.

You are the one who let her go.

You look at the jar.

It is not honey.

It is blood.

It is dark. It is thick. It is wet.

You look at the mirror.

Your face is old.

Your hair is white.

You are the father.

You are the one who stayed.

You look at the stain on the floor.

It is spreading.

It is moving toward you.

You try to step back.

Your feet do not move.

You are rooted.

You are fixed.

You are the stain.

The woman in the mirror puts down the knife.

She picks up a spoon.

She scoops the red liquid.

She brings it to her mouth.

She swallows.

She smiles.

It is a small smile. A polite smile.

You know that smile.

You wear it every day.

You smile at your colleagues.

You smile at your boss.

You smile at the world.

But inside, you are screaming.

The honey is gone.

The blood remains.

You look at your hands.

They are red.

You try to wash them.

There is no sink.

There is no water.

There is only the floor.

And the stain.

It is growing.

It is covering your feet.

It is creeping up your legs.

You feel it.

It is cold.

It is wet.

It is heavy.

You try to run.

You cannot.

You are part of the room.

You are part of the stain.

You are part of the memory.

The woman in the mirror walks toward you.

She is not real.

You are not real.

Only the stain is real.

Only the silence is real.

She reaches out.

She touches your face.

Her finger is wet.

It leaves a red mark on your cheek.

You do not wipe it away.

You accept it.

You have accepted it for years.

You have accepted the loss.

You have accepted the guilt.

You have accepted the fate.

You thought you could fight it.

You thought you could conquer the past.

You were wrong.

You were always wrong.

The past is not a thing to be beaten.

It is a thing to be worn.

It is a stain.

It is a scar.

It is a truth.

The woman in the mirror vanishes.

The room returns.

The office. The desk. The papers.

The jar is on the desk.

It is empty.

The lid is open.

The air is still.

You sit.

You breathe.

You look at your hands.

They are clean.

They are pale.

They are your hands.

You pick up the jar.

It is light.

It is empty.

You hold it.

You feel its weight.

It is nothing.

It is everything.

You set it down.

You stand up.

You walk to the door.

You open it.

The hallway is dark.

The lights are off.

You step out.

You close the door.

You walk.

You do not know where you are going.

You do not care.

You are free.

You are not.

You are the stain.

You are the honey.

You are the blood.

You are the silence.

You are the memory.

You are the truth.

You walk.

The floor is cold.

The air is thin.

You breathe.

You survive.

You continue.

You are here.

You are now.

You are you.

The jar is behind you.

It is empty.

It is full.

It is gone.

It is here.

You do not look back.

You cannot.

You must not.

You walk on.

The night is long.

The road is dark.

The heart is heavy.

But it beats.

It beats.

It beats.

You are alive.

You are alone.

You are enough.

You are nothing.

You are everything.

You walk.

The world turns.

The stars shine.

The silence sings.

You are the song.

You are the silence.

You are the truth.

You are the stain.

You are the honey.

You are the blood.

You are the memory.

You are the fate.

You are the end.

You are the beginning.

You are the now.

You are the here.

You are the self.

You are the other.

You are the same.

You are the different.

You are the whole.

You are the part.

You are the one.

You are the many.

You are the silent.

You are the loud.

You are the seen.

You are the unseen.

You are the known.

You are the unknown.

You are the real.

You are the fake.

You are the true.

You are the false.

You are the good.

You are the bad.

You are the light.

You are the dark.

You are the day.

You are the night.

You are the morning.

You are the evening.

You are the noon.

You are the midnight.

You are the sun.

You are the moon.

You are the star.

You are the earth.

You are the sky.

You are the air.

You are the water.

You are the fire.

You are the wind.

You are the stone.

You are the tree.

You are the flower.

You are the leaf.

You are the root.

You are the seed.

You are the fruit.

You are the stem.

You are the branch.

You are the bark.

You are the wood.

You are the heart.

You are the soul.

You are the spirit.

You are the body.

You are the mind.

You are the will.

You are the desire.

You are the love.

You are the hate.

You are the joy.

You are the pain.

You are the hope.

You are the fear.

You are the courage.

You are the weakness.

You are the strength.

You are the failure.

You are the success.

You are the loss.

You are the gain.

You are the start.

You are the finish.

You are the journey.

You are the destination.

You are the path.

You are the map.

You are the compass.

You are the guide.

You are the traveler.

You are the stranger.

You are the friend.

You are the enemy.

You are the lover.

You are the hater.

You are the seeker.

You are the finder.

You are the loser.

You are the winner.

You are the dead.

You are the alive.

You are the gone.

You are the here.

You are the past.

You are the future.

You are the present.

You are the now.

You are the self.

You are the other.

You are the world.

You are the universe.

You are the everything.

You are the nothing.

You are the one.

You are the many.

You are the silence.

You are the sound.

You are the light.

You are the dark.

You are the truth.

You are the lie.

You are the honey.

You are the blood.

You are the stain.

You are the memory.

You are the fate.

You are the end.

You are the beginning.

You are the now.

You are the here.

You are the self.

You are the other.

You are the same.

You are the different.

You are the whole.

You are the part.

You are the one.

You are the many.

You are the silent.

You are the loud.

You are the seen.

You are the unseen.

You are the known.

You are the unknown.

You are the real.

You are the fake.

You are the true.

You are the false.

You are the good.

You are the bad.

You are the light.

You are the dark.

You are the day.

You are the night.

You are the morning.

You are the evening.

You are the noon.

You are the midnight.

You are the sun.

You are the moon.

You are the star.

You are the earth.

You are the sky.

You are the air.

You are the water.

You are the fire.

You are the wind.

You are the stone.

You are the tree.

You are the flower.

You are the leaf.

You are the root.

You are the seed.

You are the fruit.

You are the stem.

You are the branch.

You are the bark.

You are the wood.

You are the heart.

You are the soul.

You are the spirit.

You are the body.

You are the mind.

You are the will.

You are the desire.

You are the love.

You are the hate.

You are the joy.

You are the pain.

You are the hope.

You are the fear.

You are the courage.

You are the weakness.

You are the strength.

You are the failure.

You are the success.

You are the loss.

You are the gain.

You are the start.

You are the finish.

You are the journey.

You are the destination.

You are the path.

You are the map.

You are the compass.

You are the guide.

You are the traveler.

You are the stranger.

You are the friend.

You are the enemy.

You are the lover.

You are the hater.

You are the seeker.

You are the finder.

You are the loser.

You are the winner.

You are the dead.

You are the alive.

You are the gone.

You are the here.

You are the past.

You are the future.

You are the present.

You are the now.

You are the self.

You are the other.

You are the world.

You are the universe.

You are the everything.

You are the nothing.

You are the one.

You are the many.

You are the silence.

You are the sound.

You are the light.

You are the dark.

You are the truth.

You are the lie.

You are the honey.

You are the blood.

You are the stain.

You are the memory.

You are the fate.

You are the end.

You are the beginning.

You are the now.

You are the here.