I miss chores.
Today I tried to do laundry.
Out of habit.
I built a drying rack out of driftwood and twine.
The sea took it.
The sea takes everything.
I’m starting to think the House didn’t send us to a beach.
It just replaced the floor with sand and told us to pretend it’s fine.
There’s no clock.
No chores.
No guests.
Just sun. Just water. Just this awful silence that buzzes louder every day.
I found Miren floating again.
That’s not weird anymore.
What’s weird is the thing floating with her.
It’s translucent. Vaguely circular. Definitely pulsing.
Might be a jellyfish. Might be a concept.
Enma called it a “freak of nature.”
Then roundhouse kicked a cooler.
Unrelated, but still upsetting.
Miren, of course, was whispering to it like they were old friends.
POSTCARD: Miren
Day 3:
I made a friend.
It doesn’t speak.
But it listens.
It has no bones.
Or maybe too many.
Enma kicked it.
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She said it “looked French.”
I apologized on her behalf.
It forgave me, I think.
I named it Secretary.
Secretary knows everything I say,
and most of what I don’t.
Secretary understands me.
It doesn’t talk back,
but it listens better than anyone ever has.
Its tendrils shimmer like regret.
I touched it today.
Just once.
It hummed.
I think that was its version of blushing.
Enma keeps yelling that it’s “just a jellyfish.”
But what does she know about empathy?
She bites sunscreen tubes
and screams at birds.
Secretary would never do that.
Nozomi watched us float in silence for a while.
I asked if it was weird.
She said:
“Yes.”
Then she went back underwater.
The sun never sets.
That’s okay.
I’m not trying to sleep anymore...
I have Secretary now.
It was tucked gently under a wet towel.
No envelope. Just lightly perfumed in salt and something vaguely floral.
Handwritten in violet ink. Cursive. Almost romantic.
She named it Secretary.
Says it listens better than anyone.
Says its tendrils shimmer like regret.
I… don’t know how to feel about that.
I don’t think she’s wrong.
Which is worse.
I asked if she was okay.
She smiled. Said,
“Finally.”
Then she let the jellyfish wrap a tendril around her waist and just… floated off.
End of Log.
Amaranth is trying to build a shrine out of sea glass.
I think she’s getting frustrated that the waves won’t kneel.
I still haven’t seen the sun move.
I’m starting to wonder if it even has to.