Between Tasks

Screen light, open tabs. Half my notes in messy drafts. Coffee ring on paper maps. Midday hum — imagine that. Chair spins once. I lean back. Deadlines ticking in the air, But I’m not going anywhere. Between tasks — I let it breathe. Not complete, not in a hurry. In the gap — in the in-between, That’s where I get a little clarity. No big plans, no big asks, Just a moment between tasks. Message buzz. I let it wait. Water boiling, ticking late. Sunlight cuts across the room, Dust in quiet afternoon. Stretch my hands. Roll my neck. The world keeps moving either way, I’ll rejoin it in a minute. Between tasks — I slow it down. Feet on floor, no need to run. In the pause — I come back clean, Like resetting something unseen. Not behind, not too fast, Just a rhythm between tasks. It’s not escape, It’s not delay. Just space enough To feel okay. One deep breath, Then back again. Between tasks — I feel aligned. Midday sun, uncluttered mind. In the space that doesn’t last, I find balance in the gaps. No applause, no contrast — Just this living between tasks. Click. Save. And back to it.