You were here before. You just don't remember.
No one swims here. The water is warm and still and smells like a memory you can't quite place. The surface ripples on its own. No one threw anything in.
[ click a ball — listen to it bounce ]
Spaces you've been in but never visited. Carpet that smells like 1997.
Fluorescent. Always fluorescent. They hum a frequency only your bones remember.
The water is warm. Too warm. And it's 3 AM but the lights are on.
Some doors open. Some pretend to. One of them on this page is real.
The birthday party ended hours ago. The tubes are warm. Someone is giggling.
A sound left behind. Press play and let it echo through the liminal halls.
Write something on the wall. It stays until the lights go out.