But the feeling curdled. Because was also an admission. You can’t restore something that hasn't been lost. And you can't lose something you didn't, on some level, want to be rid of.
Back to the taskbar it went. Waiting. Diminished. Hoping, perhaps, that next time, the would be permanent. That the window, and the man staring at it, would finally come back to something that felt like home. restore minimized window
But Arthur just opened a new browser tab. The tiny icon for the spreadsheet sat on the bar, a silent, patient accusation. Its time would come again. It always did. But the feeling curdled