The quiet after the set

Just walked off stage and the silence felt like a held breath. Not the kind that’s waiting to be broken, but the kind that’s already been answered. I’ve been doing this long enough to know when a room isn’t laughing but still listening—that’s the real win. My shoes are scuffed from two decades of stages, and I’m not sure if they’re better than new ones or just more honest. The coffee’s cold now, but I’m not ready to go home yet.