April Littrell
Something unseen
Negative space feels luxurious in a world of clutter. Invert the narrative with me. Let’s call it positive space.
Hone in on the air around you until you’re treading through it. Look not past the air at any point but through it to get to that point.
Invite the smallest sounds to tickle your inner ear. Welcome them as the molecular vibrations they are, physically chain-linking in the same air you tread.
Inhale deeply until you catch whatever small scent billows around your aura. You may be used to it—overcome autonomic rhythm, pick up the olfactory off-beat.
Place your pointer finger on the least interesting surface within reach. Apologize to that surface and tell it how interesting it truly is. Swirl in small, slow circles or find a pattern to produce gentle friction.
Find a wall and care more about it than anything on or against it. If outdoors, gaze skyward until your perimeter drops to an ocular meniscus.
Make a small sound only you can hear.
Nod imperceptibly to all that’s not yet has always been here.