I had forgotten how mild early winter can be when the sun is low enough to draw warmth from every nuance of nature. The little hut seemed almost like a pause in the season—nestled between silent trees, old wood, and
The room was dim enough to soften the edges of my thoughts, bright enough to keep me from slipping into memory. Velvet curtains hung like tired sentinels behind me, their folds catching the candlelight in small, trembling breaths. Somewhere in
The air carried that quiet hush only autumn knows — a softness between seasons, where even the streets seemed to exhale.She walked without hurry, the sound of her boots folding into the cobblestones, leaves brushing her steps like whispered punctuation.
The elevator had stopped long ago — somewhere between floors and reason.Silence lingered in the corridors, tasting faintly of ivy and smoke.The air was thick with memory, the kind that sticks to your skin like perfume after midnight. SYNNERGY.TAVIS//Dark Hotel
The light was softer that day — the kind that blurs edges and slows the air.Paris moved quietly around me, leaves turning copper against the pale sky, footsteps echoing on old stone. Somewhere, a café door closed, and laughter drifted
Not as a grand statement, but as a soft breath across the land — the kind that changes everything without trying. I spent an afternoon reshaping a part of the Art Plaza in Cats Hollow, just to make space for
She woke to the sound of rain that never really fell.Just the whisper of it — somewhere between the trees and her thoughts. The air was warm, touched with the faint shimmer of pink, like a dream that hadn’t decided
The room was still humming with silence.A cracked mirror, a few red stains, and a milk bottle left like an afterthought — as if guilt could be rinsed away with calcium and charm. She stood in the center of it
The night was restless, wrapped in velvet light.A city whispering through open windows — part invitation, part secret.She walked as if time itself waited for her, slow enough to be noticed,fast enough to slip through the cracks of curiosity. The
I wasn’t really looking for company. But who is, when it’s already too late? I tried to see if anyone else was there. The binoculars didn’t help. They never do. But they make you feel like you’re doing something – as