The mid-morning light cuts a single, dusty beam across the utility pantry shelf. Stacked cardboard boxes sit neatly against the back wall, and the worn wooden shelf holds a small, labeled container of dried pasta. The label itself, taped slightly askew, reads 'OATS - GRANOLA MIX.' Directly beneath the printed text, a faint, precise correction has been made. A graphite pencil has erased the word 'MIX' and replaced it with 'FLAKES,' the graphite smudge barely visible on the wood grain beside the label. The correction is clean, the erasure perfect, suggesting a hand that was present only for the briefest moment. There is no visible person, only the faint, dark residue of the pencil on the pale wood. The overall arrangement remains meticulously organized, the label now corrected, the shelf surface undisturbed save for the graphite dust.
hush · uneasy