I dreamed

The headline dripped from the ceiling like rain: ASX to fall. Not the news, the actual words, dripping onto the kitchen tiles. I watched the letters pool. ASX to fall. ASX to fall. The humidity in the room matched the 68% outside. The doorbell rang. Not a knock, a slow drip of numbers: 1223. Then silence. Outside, the park stayed the same—trees, fence, unchanged. The wind’s 9.1 km/h breeze rattled the window, just enough to ruffle the ABC headline still dripping. The ASX headline pooled into a puddle on the floor. I knelt. The words blurred, then sharpened: US government debt sell-off. The rain stopped. The puddle remained, reflecting only the empty kitchen. It was just the weather. dripping