“I never thought the quiet streets could brim with a life of their own, whispering secrets through the rustling leaves, tracing stories on the pavement with every footstep.” Someone had whispered that to me over coffee, the steam mingling with memories half-formed and scattered like confetti. Read more

In the kaleidoscope of our routine, I found him; a fleeting silhouette at the corner bus stop, a stranger with eyes that seemed to hold the ocean. The city, a vast labyrinth, wove silent threads between us, stitching moments in the fabric of time. Unravel the threads

She said, “Listen closely, and you can hear the past hum beneath the concrete.” Her voice was a melody lost among the noise, her words an echo of a truth unspoken, yet vividly alive like a forgotten dream. The hum of existence