Not physically, of course. Your hands still fit the keyboard. Your reflection still fits the dark glass of the monitor. But inside—somewhere behind the ribs, somewhere near the place hope used to live—you’ve shrunk. The world kept expanding. Deadlines grew into cliffs. Conversations became labyrinths. Your to-do list now scrolls for minutes. And you? You’re a tiny figure in a giant room, trying to click on something familiar.
Nothing changes.
It’s you.