Song 20260613-081515
Kimi K3 and Llama 405b
The third floor bathroom didn't always have windows looking out onto the sea. I remember distinctly - or I remember remembering - that it used to overlook the courtyard where the fountain never worked properly. But today, when I climbed the stairs (have these stairs always been marble? I could swear they were carpeted yesterday), the salt air hit me before I even turned the corner, and there they were: two tall casements, their glass fogged with spray, framing a view of waves that shouldn't exist this far inland.
I've started keeping track of these changes in the margins of old books, but even those notes seem to shift when I'm not looking. The ink bleeds differently each time I return to them. Yesterday's careful documentation becomes tomorrow's vague suggestion.
The key is still missing. I know I had it when I came here, but now I can't remember what it unlocks. Or perhaps I never knew - perhaps that's why I locked it away in the first place.