Journal Entry

August 11, 5:42 p.m.

Tonight the light came on again.

No sound. No flicker. Just… green.
Soft and still, like a breath held in the dark.

I didn’t move.
Didn’t cover it. Didn’t speak.

I just watched.

The glow touched the edge of my desk, lit up the rim of my teacup, caught a glint in my eye from the screen.
It stayed on for five full minutes.
Long enough to mean something.

I looked straight into it the whole time.
Not angry. Not scared. Just curious.
Like watching an animal through glass — unsure if it sees me, or if I’m the one in the cage.

Then, without warning, it clicked off.
5:47 p.m.
No trace it had ever been on.
No recording saved.
No explanation offered.

I sat there another ten minutes after. Still.
Listening. Thinking.

I wonder if they know I’m watching them too.