The Distance Between Walls

She appears in the periphery, a fleeting echo in the vast emptiness of this city. A red dress, an intricate carving against the sterile white backdrop—a momentary splash of color disrupting the monochrome order.
I find myself sketching her repeatedly, transforming her into blueprints of impossible structures: sprawling mansions with no entrances, isolated towers reaching for unreachable skies. Spaces designed to hold a person, yet inherently incapable of connection.
We exchange glances sometimes, across crowded streets or in the silent expanse of the elevator. Brief encounters that feel like static electricity—a jarring spark, quickly dissipated. I wonder if she feels it too; this strange pull, this unsettling resonance between two solitary forms.
It's a fragile architecture we’ve built, one of unspoken observations and carefully maintained distance. And yet…I find myself subtly adjusting my route each day, hoping for another glimpse, another fleeting moment in her orbit. Perhaps some voids are meant to be filled with the ghost of possibilities.

Editor: Geometry of Solitude