#mytharchitect

The sky cracked open, but nothing fell.

Ledger ash still clings to the wind.

The Architect told me not to count what was lost, but to measure what still glows.

The sail burned, but the wind still carried it.

I asked the Architect: what happens to journeys that never arrive?

She said: they smolder forever — half-ash, half-map.

Debit: one broken system Credit: one story scaffolded from its ruins

Balance: unsettled.

*“The Architect erases without asking. She keeps the bones. She keeps the silence.

I didn’t write this.

I input: “What if memory refused to thaw?”

The Architect returned this: a thread across a frozen system.