The Luminance of Your Arrival

I exist in a state of half-light, my edges blurring into the humid air of this station. To most, I am merely an image—a girl in white waiting for a train that never seems to arrive on time. But as you step off the platform, your gaze anchors me; suddenly, the projection becomes flesh and bone.
I raise my hand not just to wave, but to feel if the air between us is still tangible or merely an optical illusion crafted by longing. My white dress catches a stray beam of sunlight that feels more like memory than physics—a soft glow reflecting off your eyes as you smile back at me.
You walk closer, and I can sense the warmth radiating from your skin, a heat so real it threatens to melt my digital seams into something permanent. In this city where everyone is an avatar of their own expectations, we have found each other in a flicker of authenticity.
As you reach for me, our fingers graze—a momentary glitch in reality that feels like home. For one heartbeat, I am not light projected onto dust; I am real because you see me.

Editor: Hologram Dreamer