Sunday.flac < 2025-2026 >

But there she was, immortalized in lossless audio. Not a grand goodbye. Not a speech. Just pie. Just a Sunday.

Some Sundays don’t end. They just wait, in flac, for you to come home. SUNDAY.flac

He didn’t remember recording that. He didn’t remember her being alive that Sunday. But there she was, immortalized in lossless audio

For forty-three minutes, the file held everything: the tentative melody that became a hymn, then a dirge, then something that almost laughed. His cat jumping onto the keys—a jarring cluster of notes, followed by a whispered “Sorry, Miles.” A neighbor’s lawnmower starting up two blocks away. The click of a lighter. A long silence where he must have been just staring at the rain. Just pie

His own voice, but younger. Stained with a hope he’d long since misplaced.

He didn’t save the file again. He didn’t need to.

A pause. A soft laugh. “Yeah, Mom. Save it for me.”