Stand Across

Once a year, every human on Earth loses one entire day. It doesn't feel like a blackout - it feels clean, like the day never existed. No one knows which day they lose, or what happens during it. Video footage erases itself. Time-stamped devices loop or glitch. Even diary entries vanish without smudges. Most people accept it. Some even like it. But a few... don't forget.
The world isn't broken.
Just folded.
Bent along invisible seams no one admits are there.
There is a place made of what we tried not to feel.
Where echoes walk.
Where memories wait to be picked up again.
It's easy to cross over.
Harder to come back whole.
And something has started crossing the other way.