the window stays open about thirteen minutes

8:41pm. dinner plate still on the desk, pushed left to make room. one fork. a smear of something orange near the rim. the mug left a ring on the wood weeks ago and i keep setting the mug back inside the same ring like it's a coaster now.

8:43. headphones on but only one ear, the right cup sitting back against the side of my head so i can hear the fridge. cable from the headphones loops under the keyboard and i tug it straight. there's a fine grit of dust along the bottom row of keys, between space and the alt i never press.

8:44. open browser. Knot.chat. don't sign up for anything, don't fill the box that asks for a name. there's a button that just says start. cursor hovers. the lamp switch is on the cord by my knee and i thumb it off, then on, then off. room goes blue from the screen. better.

8:45. left hand stays near the corner of the keyboard. esc is right there. i set my finger on the row above it, not touching, just hovering, the way you hold your hand over a candle to feel if it's still warm.

8:45. click start.

connecting… connecting… you're now chatting with a stranger.

8:46. nobody types. the little dots aren't even there. i look at my own blank input field. crumbs on the desk near the trackpad, three of them, bread maybe. i flick one and it lands on the plate which feels correct.

8:47. i type something. delete it. type again. delete. the draft i deleted said something about the weather even though there's no weather inside this room and we don't share a window. backspace held down until it's empty. cursor blinking.

8:48. set a timer on my phone. 13:00. don't ask me why thirteen. felt like enough to not be rude and not enough to get stuck. phone face down next to the mug. the screen light leaks a little under it.

8:48. i send the first thing.

me: hey

that's it. lowercase. no punctuation. it sits there on the right side of the window in its little gray bubble and looks smaller than it felt to send.

8:49. dots. then nothing. then dots again.

stranger: hi

8:49. ok. ok. both of us idling now. i pull my cold sock half off with the other foot, the heel of it gone clammy, and leave it dangling. the right headphone cup slides further down. i don't fix it.

8:50. i type lol even though nothing was funny. don't send. delete the l's one at a time.

stranger: how r u me: ok me: bit tired stranger: same

8:51. that's the whole exchange. i read it back three times like it's a page in a language i half know. timer says 11:14 somewhere under the phone, i can't see it, i just know it's running.

8:52. long stretch where the connection is still green, still alive, the word connected sitting at the top, and neither of us is doing anything. i can see the input box on my side is empty and i assume his is too. the lamp ticks as it cools. fridge cycles off and the room gets that thicker quiet. i finish the last of the water in the mug. set it back in the ring.

8:54. i drag the plate two inches to the right for no reason. the fork slides. i think about a thing i could say and then it leaves before i can shape it. the silence is fine actually. it's the most relaxed part. nobody is owed anything. the cursor blinks at the same speed as before.

8:56. he types.

stranger: do u have pets

8:56. and that's the awkward one, not because it's bad, it's just so completely from nowhere, like a question pulled out of a hat in an empty room. it's harmless. it's the kind of thing you ask when you also can't think of anything. i appreciate it a little.

me: no me: u

8:57.

stranger: a fish

8:57. a fish. great. i smile at the screen with no one to see it. i go to type a follow up about the fish and i can already feel the shape of the next twenty minutes, fish, then job, then where you from, the whole staircase, and i just. don't want to climb it tonight. not because of him. the fish is fine. he's fine.

8:58. timer must be close. i don't check. headphone fully off now, hanging around my neck, the one ear that was cold getting air. dust on the keys again, i swear it regenerates. i put my finger back over esc. don't press yet.

8:59. i type one more.

me: gonna head off me: take care of the fish

8:59. he's typing. i don't wait for it. i close the tab. disconnected, somewhere, on his end, a gray line where the green was.

—

after. nothing dramatic happened, which i want to write down because i keep expecting there to be a verdict and there isn't one. i didn't say anything wrong. neither did he. the fish was real to him probably. the thirteen minutes were just thirteen minutes and then they were over and the room is the same room, lamp off now, plate still here, the ring on the desk where the mug goes.

i think i went in half wanting it to be something and half wanting an exit, and i kept both the whole time, finger near the key, one ear open to the fridge, never fully in the chair. that's not a failure of the chat. it's just how i sat. the connection stayed open longer than the talking did and that was the part i didn't mind.

cold sock fully off now. crumbs swept onto the plate. i'll wash the mug tomorrow probably. the cable's still tangled. i'm leaving it.