The call ended and the screen went black and I sat in my room and felt the absence of it like something solid. Six people had just been in that rectangle, speaking, gesturing, laughing at something our manager said. Now there was just my desk and the half-empty glass of water I'd been meaning to refill for an hour. I looked at the empty chair by the window and felt, just for a second, like I was the one who wasn't there. Like I was on the other side of the screen and the room was the thing being displayed.

My days are mostly calls and screens and then the space between them. The space between them is where I live, but it feels secondary. Like the loading screen before the real thing. I keep waiting to feel present in my own apartment. I touch the wall sometimes to remind myself it's solid. That probably sounds worse than it is. Or maybe it sounds exactly as bad as it is. When was the last time the room you were in felt like the main event?