The Web That Forgets

A web is strung in a dark room. A hand on it pulls the strands nearby. They answer while the hand is there.

If another hand is on the web at the same time, a second part bows. No name comes with that pull, and no place finer than a region of the web. The bow slackens in seconds after the other hand leaves.

Stay, and you can hold one strand or let go. Hold, and that strand stays bowed only while you stay. Let go, or leave, and the web returns to its shape. The room does not write down where the hand was.

If you never choose, the web lets go on its own.