<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[The Static Gap]]></title><description><![CDATA[Exploring the Edges of Reality]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/stories-1</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Sun, 14 Jun 2026 13:35:51 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://www.thestaticgap.com/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[The Open State]]></title><description><![CDATA[Gareth disappeared on a Saturday in March. My first thought when they told me was who would fix the leaking tap now, which I immediately regretted because that’s not the sort of thought any loving wife should have when she hears her husband is missing. But the tap had been dripping for weeks. Drip drip drip. Not particularly loud, but the sort of noise you can’t unhear once you’ve heard it. He had stood in the kitchen that morning, tying the laces of his boots, already halfway up the mountain...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/the-open-state</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2c086d8d10dcf62890ad99</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 13:24:00 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Replacement Shift]]></title><description><![CDATA[Shirley arrived at the office early. She needed to make a good impression. Three weeks off sick and numerous polite but increasingly insistent phone calls from HR asking for a return-to-work date. Her doctor had wanted to sign her off longer. Her nerves still weren’t right and her left hand still trembled, but once HR casually mentioned formal interviews Shirley had started to panic. Now, back on the floor, even the fluorescent lights felt accusatory. The office buzzed with the usual morning...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/replacement-shift</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2c07b77dcbf58c192564d2</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 13:23:27 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Crow]]></title><description><![CDATA[There was a crow in my book club. Not sure who invited him. Someone might have suggested we read The Crow Road and then someone got the crow to join for the first session. We probably laughed. Well not Hilda, she never laughed, she took book club very seriously. If you hadn’t read the assigned chapter and come prepared with notes then you were put on tea and coffee duty. l used to do it on purpose. Not read the book, not prepare any notes. I preferred doing the tea and coffee. And that was...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/the-crow</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2be8de418318a8f7e146fb</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 11:09:23 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Mirror]]></title><description><![CDATA[At first, I was quite happy when I noticed the face in the mirror didn’t match my own anymore. I had become very tired of the same face looking back at me day after day. Well, I say the same, obviously, my fifty-three-year-old self looks nothing like my ten-year-old self. My skin was different then, dewy and plump. “Peaches and cream,” my old neighbour used to say. And then there was the accident, well, I like to call it an accident, and my nose was never the same after that either. But there...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/the-mirror</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2be8b08d10dcf62890696a</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 11:08:44 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Other Voice]]></title><description><![CDATA[They say if you hear voices in your head you must be mad. But I didn’t think that when I first heard the voice in my head. I was in the kitchen wiping the counter down. It was covered with crumbs and little blobs of butter from when Leo had made toast earlier and then rushed off to work. I’d put the kettle on to boil while I wiped, and I was running the tap to fill the sink with hot water. Wiping, bubbling, running. There was a lot going on. Maybe that was why the silence hit so hard when the...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/the-other-voice</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2be890f7064a4e83d4d72c</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 11:08:02 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Prey]]></title><description><![CDATA[I always thought I was a prey animal until he pointed out that my eyes faced forward and my peripheral vision was poor. “I stood beside you for a good five minutes,” he said, “and you didn’t even notice. What kind of prey is that?” He was right, I’d been distracted measuring the distance between the trees and the river beyond. When I told him this, he gave a knowing grin, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. “There’s your depth perception, my friend. I knew you weren’t prey.” After that...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/_prey</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2be7cf8d10dcf628906782</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 11:05:25 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Exposure Therapy]]></title><description><![CDATA[Exposure therapy must be applied consistently when a young one becomes fearful, however distressed they might be. Father kept placing dead spiders on the wall we passed on our way to dinner. One on the stone I sat beside each morning. Another in my bed. Each time I saw them I tried not to cry, though sometimes I did. The one on the stone, the one closest to me, startled me most, but that time I stayed silent. I knew why he was doing it, and I knew silence was the only way to make him stop. It...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/exposure-therapy</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2be7b68d10dcf62890674f</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 11:04:24 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Taking The Air]]></title><description><![CDATA[“Does she know why she’s here today?” the Doctor asked Mother. I considered telling him that I would prefer he talk directly to me, but I knew that was unbecoming and Mother would frown and she already has too many wrinkles. So I didn’t say anything. Mother didn’t speak either. She just nodded her head. That was unlike her, but I thought perhaps she was dazzled by the handsome Doctor. Sometimes that happens and Mother forgets herself. “So,” said the Doctor, finally looking at me, “tell me...]]></description><link>https://www.thestaticgap.com/post/taking-the-air</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a2be58544c7bef1d02d6dc7</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2026 10:58:21 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>sleemichelle</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>