(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Weight of a Name
There is a specific silence that follows a name when the person it belongs to is no longer within earshot. It is not the silence of an empty room, but the silence of a tether that has been cut. I remember the way my mother’s name felt in…
(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Breath of Scattering
The taste of dust is never just dirt; it is the dry, chalky memory of a summer afternoon spent running until my lungs burned. It is the feeling of grit against the roof of my mouth, a reminder that everything solid eventually turns to powder.…
The Quiet Between Breaths
I spent this morning trying to organize my bookshelf, but I ended up just sitting on the floor, reading the spines of books I haven't touched in years. The house was so still that I could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. It’s…