Midsummer Soliloquy

Summer afternoons, children's storybooks, garden naps, secret notes, rice cakes, baked pies, empty canvases, and the sight of viridescent fields. Within these moments lies the quiet world of a daydreamer-where the present is only a whistle away from becoming, and the past breathes in a familiar pattern, as though learning to live again.

A tale borrowed from childhood.

2025, aisthete