Another Sunday, or so it seems. But Sundays aren't what they used to be; they've become just another day, blending into the rush of the week. This morning, a simple bite of cake pulls me somewhere else—somewhere far, to a time when the ocean stretched before me and I walked alone through empty streets, with only the damp air and silent buildings as company.
I find myself between two worlds: one of routine, ticking hours, and familiar faces… and another, boundless and timeless, where the sea’s cold breeze lingers on my skin as if I’d never left. Can memories reach across years like that? Or perhaps, it’s the quiet spaces we carry within that truly hold us.
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