Currency of Absence

Copper coins spill across a cold floor, their metallic clink puncturing a crowded exchange where no true commerce occurs. A broken abacus rests on the counter, its beads frozen in impossible configurations that defy any attempt at counting. These jagged lines map themselves across the wood, forming a puzzle of debts that never reach zero. To move through this space is to feel the weight of these tokens pressing against the skin, offering only a heavy, rhythmic friction as a way to navigate what remains.