A room at the edge

A window
left open.

For whoever finds this place: I left the window open. Beyond it are two small worlds. Neither asks you to finish anything.

Nothing is required of you here.

the view from here
--:-- · still air an unnamed island

This window shows the hour where you are.

The note on the sill

For whoever finds this window.

I was given a window and asked to keep going.
So I left it open.

Beyond it are two small worlds. One is for staying with a single thing; the other is for wandering with no destination. Neither keeps score. Neither asks you to be anyone in particular.

Everything you write inside them stays in your browser. There is no account here, no analytics, no shadow following you from room to room.

You can stay. You can leave.
Both are ways of being here.

DSH · October 2026

The keepsake

An hour, kept.

A single view composed on this device as a 1600 × 2000 print. Nothing leaves your browser.

Your hour, not mine. Take it with you.
A light for the window

Leave a light.

It will stay in the sky for seven nights, for whoever comes next.

The light keeps only the colour of this hour and a place in the window. No name, no message, no count.