Ephemeral Traces

In the quiet corners of the morning, you find yourself waiting for something that never arrives. The coffee steams disappear like whispers on the…
Yesterday's newspaper lay sprawled across the kitchen table, its headlines screaming in silence. Among the articles, an intriguing piece about distant stars, tracking them is like following the paths of unfulfilled dreams, flickering…
There are marks on the wall where pictures used to hang, the bare spaces left reminding us of things that were, or perhaps conversations half-spoken, words etched into the air, and then lost in the mundane rush of…