A library of past writings, categorized not by place or chronology, but by mood. Each collection preserves a different quality of transience—a different shade of the in-between.
The Harbor Lights
I watched the harbor lights from the ferry's deck, each one a pinpoint in the darkness. Cities always look more honest from a distance, more like constellations than concrete...
Read full entry →Midnight Diner
The neon sign buzzed overhead, casting everything in a red glow. Rain traced patterns on the windows, and somewhere a jukebox played something slow and blue. The waitress had the eyes of someone who had seen every story walk through the door...
Read full entry →Autumn Train
The train cut through autumn landscapes, each tree a different shade of departure. An old man across the aisle kept checking his watch, though there was nowhere to be but here, moving between places at exactly the speed we were meant to...
Read full entry →Airport Echoes
Airports at night have their own gravity. People orbit departure gates like celestial bodies, tethered by invisible strings to destinations they haven't reached yet. Announcements echo in multiple languages, and time exists in its own dimension...
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