Tomorrow is a brand new day, and nobody really knows what it's going to bring, do they? But sometimes, just sometimes, I sort of know. It happens in dreams, when a little picture of the day ahead unrolls itself. It's never super clear, like a fuzzy drawing that's almost there but not quite. So I don't try too hard to remember all the tiny details. I just keep the feeling, the general hum of it all. It's like catching a scent on the wind, you know it's there, but you can't quite hold onto it. And that's okay. It just adds a little sparkle to the waiting, a quiet anticipation for whatever is coming next.
Stephie
The Unfolding Day
© Copyright: Илья Бубнов, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125112308620
Свидетельство о публикации №125112308620
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