Forgotten Bookmarks

Browser tabs accumulate like snow— each one a small decision suspended, the article you meant to read when the world felt quieter, when there was time.

Your history is a map of interrupted journeys, pages marked but never arrived at, a collection of maybes growing pale in the dark.

Sometimes you find them months later, these phantom links, and for a moment you're the person who wanted to know that thing, who believed the answer lived in there.

But the moment passes. You close the tab again, and it finds its place among the others, patient, waiting, like letters never sent.