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| A lone figure sat by the window, watching the rain trace delicate paths down the glass. |
Through the glass, the world outside became a canvas. The water streaks formed patterns, like a map of forgotten places, with the ripple marking a destination unknown. The power line, cutting diagonally across the scene, felt like a boundary between the real and the dreamlike. Beyond it, the sky glowed faintly, as if the sun had tried and failed to break through the clouds.
The ripple spread, each wave smaller than the last, until it disappeared into the larger pool of rainwater. But the feeling it left lingered, like a reminder that even in the chaos of life, there were these fleeting moments small, almost imperceptible where everything aligned, and for just a second, time seemed to pause.
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