In the crevices of the daily grind lurks forgotten feelings, outstanding bills, and coffee stains—memories spilled in a rush. Each corner of loneliness masked by laughter.
The pin-drop silence, a testament to buried conversations unfolding in the periphery. Last night’s arguments replaying under the surface of calm faces.
I glanced at her; she smiled. The unspoken truth was a hubristic horror lingering between us like unpaid rent. How many secrets enrich the hollow as we briskly soar through the mundane?
Flickerings of life interfere, fragments felt more than sensed:
Grief Maps | Unspoken Collections | Lost Conversations