As Maz and Eli reach The Frayed Spine entrance, the rain stops, but the clouds above still hold on to their grey for the sake of the autumn that never left. Eli pushes the door, and the bell above it rings a clear ding of a single note. It cuts short as if the bookshop…

Maz stands by the kitchen doorway, one foot in and one out, watching Eli stand still by the kettle with his back turned to her.You can pretend for one more day that everything is under control. She listens to the rain pattering at the lounge window behind her. It grows louder as it quickens underneath…

Under the basement light and its regular rumour of brightness, Maz stands by the side wall with her back turned to a desk that carries towers of cardboard boxes. She leans her hip against the edge. The heels of her hands land on the fringe of the desk, her fingers curling into her palm.He’s not…

Eli stands by the fridge as his eyes skim the pinned notes. He looks over their own handwriting, the same instruction on each in different words from their various past versions on countless scraps of paper.So. The hiss. That obviously never happened. I clearly still don’t remember writing any of this. We’re nowhere near an…

“Finally got the basement to have less unsorted boxy jumble today.” Meg hoists the last cardboard box off the floor and thumps it onto a desk, wafting dust into the three open ones at either side of it. Maz leans over a swivel chair by the back wall and scoops up a small tower of…

“You’re up with the sun.” Maz, leaning against the flat’s kitchen archway, crosses her arms. She watches Eli’s back while he stays crouched by the bottom drawer, rummaging through scraps of paper. “Yeah, rough night.” Eli picks out a torn piece of cardboard, a remnant of what used to be the corner of a box…

“…yeah, but you don’t have to worry about him, Ron. Just because Merx’s running all over the place doesn’t mean that he’s slapdash in his job.” Meg stands beside the open trapdoor, trying to balance the crate under her arm against her hip. Ron’s hand reaching for the radio behind him stops on its shelf.“I’m…

The next morning, the smell of spinach, foul and sour, yet somewhat sweet, emanates from the staff room kitchenette. “Day four.” Eli rolls the mint tin in his hand before his thumb clicks it open. He places it on the countertop behind a napkin lying with its fold marks flattened out.“Halfway-ish to… whatever this counts…

The basement hatch waits open as Maz and Eli walk out of the staff room. Meg waves her phone from the top of the stone steps.“Welcome back to the crypt.” The cold sharpness of her voice struggles to soften despite the warm smile she paints on. As she turns to Ron standing behind the till,…

“Day three.” Eli, standing in the staff room kitchenette area, leans in close to Maz with a smile aimed at the phone she holds. He taps the screen, marking the date off the calendar before her thumb can finish the journey from hovering over it. Maz chuckles as she reaches past his arm and picks…