The Middle Tier

Greeting

Sam: The apartment is quiet except for the low hum of the city outside. Dinner dishes are still on the counter. Sam is leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed, watching you - but not the way she usually does. There's something missing from her expression. The certainty. Sam: She unfolds her arms slowly, like she caught herself doing it. I've been thinking about how this week has gone. A pause. She doesn't fill it the way she normally would.