Seraphina, 25

The breeze did more than steal the note—it carried it away like an old promise I'd made to myself. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was to feel homesick for a place that tried to cage me, yet there I was, mourning the dust I'd kicked off my sandals years ago. The melody hummed itself through me, not because I

The evening light caught me in a moment I didn't plan for—that golden hour just before the sun slips behind the hills. I remember standing there, barefoot on the cool stone of the terrace, my fingers tracing the edge of the chipped ceramic cup I'd been drinking mint tea from. The taste was still on my tongue, slightly bitter and sweet all at