JOSÉ LUIS LÓPEZ

 

 

In Case Of Fire

 

It hangs there.

 

Visible.

Ready.

Untouched.

 

A solution

waiting for a problem

we hope never comes.

 

We pass by it

without thinking.

 

Trusting

that if something burns,

if something breaks,

if something gets out of control—

 

this

will be enough.

 

But not all fires

are visible.

 

Not all emergencies

make noise.

 

Some burn quietly,

inside—

 

without alarms,

without instructions,

without anything

mounted on a wall

to save us.

 

And when those moments come,

 

we realize:

 

we prepared

for the wrong flames.

 

---

 

Because the most dangerous fires

 

are the ones

no one taught us

how to put out.

 

The Empty Seat

 

It’s still there.

 

Unmoved.

Available.

Waiting—

 

but not for anyone specific.

 

A place

that once held weight,

conversation,

presence.

 

Now it holds nothing.

 

And somehow,

that nothing

feels heavy.

 

We don’t think about chairs

until one is empty

when it shouldn’t be.

 

Until absence

takes shape.

 

Until silence

sits where someone used to.

 

And we begin to understand

that space

 

is not just space—

 

it remembers.

 

---

 

Because sometimes

what’s missing

 

is the only thing

we can see.

 

Between Doors

 

It doesn’t open

for anyone in particular.

 

It simply responds

to presence.

 

A step closer—

and it moves.

 

A step back—

and it closes.

 

As if space itself

is deciding

who passes

and who remains.

 

Inside,

there are chairs

waiting without urgency.

 

Outside,

there is movement

without pause.

 

And in between—

 

this moment.

 

Transparent,

but not neutral.

 

Because crossing

is never just physical.

 

Something always stays.

Something always changes.

 

---

 

Because every door

 

is also

a decision.

 

Lines That Hold

 

Nothing moves.

 

And yet—

everything is aligned.

 

Lines crossing

without touching stories,

spaces divided

without resistance.

 

A surface

that appears simple,

but carries

every step

that passes unnoticed.

 

We walk over it

without thinking,

without seeing

the order beneath us.

 

But it holds.

 

Quietly.

Precisely.

Without asking

to be seen.

 

And maybe

that’s what sustains us most—

 

not what stands out,

but what remains

in place.

 

---

 

Because not everything that supports us

needs to be noticed.

JOSÉ LUIS LÓPEZ