I left my phone charging on the hall table and walked out before I could change my mind. There was no grand plan behind it, just the small suspicion that I had been carrying every possible conversation into every quiet moment.
The first ten minutes felt strangely loud. I noticed a delivery van, a dog with a very serious expression, and the fact that the bakery opens earlier than I do. None of it needed a photograph.
By the time I came home, I had remembered why I like walking without an errand. My thoughts had not been solved, but they had stopped arriving all at once.
Now I leave the phone behind once a week. It is less a digital detox than a tiny appointment with the person I am when nobody can reach me.