11am

You have been moving since six.

Not urgently — efficiently. The list is getting shorter. Things are being done. You have sent the messages and cleaned the kitchen and booked the appointment and the inbox is at a number you are comfortable with.

It is 11am.

You sit down.

Something arrives almost immediately. Not a thought — something underneath thought. A pressure, or the absence of pressure, which is its own kind of pressure. Your leg starts moving. Not intentionally. Just the knee, going up and down the way a leg does when it is waiting for something.

You are not waiting for anything.

You check your phone. Nothing has changed since four minutes ago. You put it down and pick up the water glass and put that down too.

The kitchen is clean. The list is shorter.

Your leg is still moving.