Brock Kniles

A jumble of steel and stone entwines, a knot that resists a gentle hand. The surface, once smooth, now bears the scars of what's been lost, and what's been planned.

He was taking every meeting. Unsubscribing from emails manually. "Helping" the design team with their fonts. He was a ghost—present everywhere, effective nowhere. brock kniles

“Leo,” he whispered. The word made no sound. But something happened. A vibration. A ripple. The air between them shimmered like heat off asphalt. A jumble of steel and stone entwines, a

He waved. She did not wave back.