The Quiet Unraveling, Or, Two Dollars Less

The email came, just text, no fanfare.

'Subscription Canceled.' Right there,

black on white. I scrolled right past it,

at first. Then a small, dull blast it

sent through me. An app, I’d forgot.

Duolingo, or something, some spot

where I’d tried to learn French. For a week.

Two years ago. Barely a squeak

of a memory.

Now, gone. And I feel… what?

Relief, for the two dollars?

Or a little sting, like some blot

on a page, a missed chance, the hollows

of intention?

I deleted the icon, tiny, pixelated still

on my phone. A quiet, almost gentle, kill.

No goodbyes. Just that blank screen.

Nothing gained, nothing mean.

Just less. A little less.