The echo between us

There's a moment in every story where something shifts - quietly, invisibly, but irreversibly. I've come to recognise that moment more easily now, after writing these reflections week after week. It's not often dramatic. It's a glance, a silence, a sentence that doesn't quite land. And it's in those moments that the echo beings.

This week, I found myself thinking about two people who never quite said what they meant. I’ve written about them before, in different forms, under different skies. But this time, I wanted to sit with the space between them—the unspoken, the almosts, the maybes.

The echo between them wasn’t loud. It was soft, persistent, and strangely tender. It carried what they couldn’t say, what they didn’t dare to name. And in that echo, I heard the weight of their story. Not regret. Not longing. Just the quiet reverberation of something that shifted and never shifted back.

Writing Five Words Deep has taught me to listen for those echoes. To honor the spaces between words. To trust that sometimes, the most powerful truths live in what’s left unsaid.