The Cartography of Still Waters

I traded the suffocating grey skyline for this emerald expanse, where time doesn't tick but floats. Sitting here on the woven bamboo raft, holding the paper umbrella like a shield against memories I'm too tender to face yet strong enough to let go of.

The water is quiet, mirroring my own unraveling peace. In the city, we are always running from something; here, under this wide hat and vast sky, there is nowhere else I need to be but exactly where the current takes me.

Editor: Lane Whisperer