A novel

by Teagan Kai Gray

after this

Some things get postponed with good intentions.

Some things get postponed because it's easier.

Most of us call it "later" and assume time will agree.

There’s a sentence you’re saving for after this — after the tournament, after the move, after you’ve found the nerve. The one you keep meaning to say.

Write it down — then press Enter.

Nothing you write is saved, sent, or read. Not by us. Not by anyone. It disappears the moment you leave — like most things left for after this.

We keep saying after this
as if this will wait for us.