Liquidated Essence

Copper coins lie scattered across the floor like heavy beads, leaving a sharp metallic tang on the tongue. To command a moment of stillness, one must trade away the vivid warmth of an old memory, watching as color drains from the fingertips into the gray grain of the wood. Each hard-won quietude acts as a transaction, requiring a steady liquidation of the self to balance the ledger. In this exchange, what was once held as constant becomes merely another currency spent for peace.