Guest
As dawn’s tender light kisses the surface of the glassy lake, a solitary boat glides silently. Its wooden hull, weathered by time, cradles the weight of memories—of lovers’ whispered promises and dreams woven into the fabric of the water. The oars move with deliberate grace, disturbing only ripples of reflection. The world seems to hold its breath, as if afraid to disturb this delicate equilibrium. The boat’s wake trails behind like a silver ribbon, connecting past and present. Soft piano notes weave through the air, their melancholic melody echoing the secrets hidden within the mist. The sun, a golden witness, paints the sky in hues of apricot and lavender. Birds skim the water’s surface, their wings brushing against eternity. The boat carries more than its passengers—it carries stories of love found and lost, of solitude embraced, and of quiet contemplation. The music swells, wrapping around the heart like a cashmere shawl, inviting introspection. And as the boat reaches the heart of the lake, it pauses. The world holds its breath once more. The soft music lingers, a balm for weary souls. The boat becomes a vessel for dreams, sailing toward the horizon where sky and water merge—an invitation to surrender, to float, to be.
