(The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet)
My old group chats
The one for someone’s wedding
or the one with all the family and one too many notifications
the one for some event, the one for a reunion.
Are all quiet. Still.
Or the ones that were mute, now a site of dispatch.
A brief moment online, they say they’re okay, alive then disappear into silence again
They can’t say much more
there are eyes and ears everywhere.
Everything reeks of pain.
Of quiet confusion.
Of trying to keep faith.
“It snowed in Tehran. It is beautiful today,” they say.
To keep us from falling apart in the face of this evil.
We send an emoji that hugs. We send a red heart.
No more notifications.
Everything reeks of pain.
t.a
Jan 2026