The.uninvited Info

It doesn’t seep in through a cracked window or a drafty attic. This cold crawls up the back of your neck while you’re standing in a room that should be warm. It’s the cold that arrives with someone—except no one has opened the door.

The air popped. Like a pressure change in an airplane.

So, I did something that felt ridiculous at 4:00 AM. I walked into the spare bedroom, looked at the empty rocking chair (which, for the record, I still cannot explain), and I said out loud: the.uninvited

You don’t have to fight it. You don’t have to perform an exorcism. You just have to stop pretending it has a right to your table.

The chair hasn’t moved since. The.uninvited will always try the handle. That is its nature. It is the shadow in the peripheral, the strange noise in the attic, the email you were dreading. It doesn’t seep in through a cracked window

Draw the line. Speak the boundary. Let the silence that follows be the loudest thing in the room.

The.uninvited had made itself comfortable. Here is the lie we tell ourselves: A home is a fortress. The air popped

We talk a lot about guests in this life. The planned ones. The ones with wine bottles and wet umbrellas. We tidy the living room, hide the laundry, and light a candle that smells like sandalwood and lies.