9.12.25: The Couch Void

There’s a specific void in every couch where small items vanish. Not “lost” — vanished. You drop a remote, coin, or key and it just ceases to exist. I’ve pulled that couch apart more times than I can count. I’ve found popcorn from a movie I don’t remember watching. Hair ties. A receipt from a place I’ve never been. But never the thing I’m looking for. I think it’s a portal. Not malicious, just selective. It’s collecting things for some cosmic reason. A shrine of forgettable objects. Someday it’ll give them back. Probably all at once. Probably when I least need them.