The Sphinx of Division

Marcus stared at the amber **vitamin** capsule in his palm—the one Elena had insisted he take every morning, claiming it would cure his existential malaise. She'd been wrong about so many things, but he still swallowed it dry, watching through rain-streaked windows as the moving truck carried away the last seven years of his life.

They'd been **friends** first, back when friendship felt like enough. That was before the questions began—the ones without answers, the ones that calcified into silence at dinner, into back-turned shoulders in bed. Elena had become a **sphinx** of her own making, guarding ancient grudges with riddles she refused to explain, devouring him with those unblinking expectations.

The phone rang, startling him. His reflection in the black TV screen showed a man who'd forgotten how to be alone in a room that still held their ghost. The **cable** company would disconnect service tomorrow—not that it mattered. They'd stopped watching anything months ago, preferring the comfortable numb of their respective devices, two strangers tethered by Wi-Fi and declining affection.

Marcus moved to the kitchen, his hand shaking as he filled a glass from the tap. The **water** was cold against his palm, shocking him back into his body. He remembered the night Elena had wept in this very spot, confessing she didn't know who she was anymore. He'd offered solutions instead of presence, practical fixes for a soul that needed only to be witnessed.

Now the apartment was full of boxes and shadows. The vitamin bottle sat on the counter—Elena had left it behind, perhaps intentionally. A final test. A riddle without answer.

He drank the water in one long swallow, feeling it course through him, washing away the taste of conclusions he'd been too afraid to reach. Somewhere in this city, Elena was becoming someone else, and perhaps, if he could brave the silence, he might too.