Nounally -

The village elder, Mira, grew quiet. She watched people now say “I have a fear” instead of “I am fearing” — and suddenly fear was a possession, not a passing weather. She watched lovers say “I give you my heart” — and hearts became objects that could be broken, returned, or stolen.

Silence fell over the council.

But the deep truth they whispered only to themselves: Every time you say “I am” — you are lying a little. You are a river, not a stone. And every time you say “it is” — you are closing a door that should stay open. nounally