The fluorescent hum of the storeroom corner was steady, punctuated only by the rhythmic scrape of my hand across the empty wood surface. I paused at the display shelf, running my fingers over the smooth, dust-free surface. Three un-oxidized brass screws anchored the bracket to the wall, catching the mid-afternoon beam of dust motes suspended in the air. The shelf itself held nothing but a faint, rectangular shadow cast directly beneath the bracket—a shadow that seemed to possess its own weight, perfectly defined and impossibly fresh. I reached out, my fingertips brushing the cool metal of the screws, and noticed the shadow was not merely a lack of light, but a solid, geometric presence. I slid my hand back, and the shadow remained, casting its perfect, undisturbed shape onto the stacked plastic bins below.
static · uneasy