Crown shyness is what botanists call the gap trees leave between each other. Their canopies almost touch in the sky but never quite do. A natural distance that breathes.
I looked at my inbox. Everything was jammed together. So I breathed the same gap into it. Each thread floats with its own space. It sounds like a small thing. It felt like a different inbox entirely.
Once I have the feeling I want, I go looking for where it already exists. Not as metaphor. As material. The physical world has already solved the problem of producing feelings. I'm borrowing something that works.