Golden Dandelions
The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick with the scent of
urban romance
The Weight of a Smile
The rain in Tokyo always felt like a muted soundtrack to my
Neon Reflections
The rain in Tokyo always felt like a secret, a shimmering curtain
The Quiet Comfort of Dusk
The rain hadn’t stopped, not really. It was more a persistent
Midnight Bloom
The rain in Tokyo always felt like a secret, a hushed confession
Stripes and Second Chances
The rain always seemed to find her on Tuesdays. Not a torrential
Echoes in Lace
The rain always seemed to find her. Not a torrential downpour, but