City Tectonic

Beneath the city's surface, there are stories you never hear—a symphony of pipes and cables, whispering secrets in the dead of night. Old books, dusty and forgotten, lined up neatly in the margins of a subterranean library. Occasionally, a new resident discovers them, tucked away in an abandoned subway station, only to rhyme the city itself as they read.

I wonder what the stories say about us, about the lives we lead above in sunlight and shadow, where the ground shifts slowly but surely, tectonically, beneath our feet. Every tremor a reminder of the shifting sands of time, the fleeting permanence of the constructed world.

Doodles in the Margins

If you look closely at the buildings, the corners often sport scribbles, little doodles made by those who build and maintain. Some claim they ward off bad luck; others say they tell fortunes. Walk about, and you'll see these ancient symbols, almost hidden in plain sight, marking tales of their own.

Discover the Riverlines
Read Forgotten Tales