Affection Receipts Required

By Ray Calder

We moved through the days like swimmers in different lanes, each with a private logic for staying afloat. I surfaced, gasping for air, wanting you; you dove for the hush at the bottom. The Relationship Compliance App blinked: “Submit Affection Receipts.” The kitchen meter chirped, “Distance Detected. Please Schedule a Reconnection Audit.” Your silences were your shelter. My talking, a kind of trespass. I made rules; you dissolved them. The fridge displayed Our Intimacy Score. The light stuttered, the app pinged, and we obeyed in silence. I needed nearness; you needed separation. The paperwork piled up. We sank, pending deletion, together.