Category: Quiet Inventions

Till Next Time

He rests the needle on the vinyl, the soft hum filling the room. I take a sip from my glass as his hand traces the edge of my thigh. Shadows play across his face, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist. Still intimate, still ours. For now. Till next time.

Two Sundays

Writer’s Note: This piece reflects the stillness and ache of memory. It's about the kind of love that shapes us even after it ends. It lives inside specific moments, like Sundaymornings, and becomes an enduring part of us. I wrote this with brutal honesty, blending … Continue reading Two Sundays