The Perfect Pause at Noon

The wind here smells of salt and forgotten promises, a sharp contrast to the sterile air of my office. I adjusted the brim of my hat just enough to catch his gaze without looking like I was trying too hard.

He stood by the railing three meters away, but in this suspended moment where time seemed to slow down for everyone else except us two, we might as well have been touching. A small smile tugged at my lips—not a grand gesture, just an acknowledgment of how perfect everything felt right now.

I didn't need him to cross the distance immediately; I only needed him to see that he had found me here, in this quiet sanctuary between chaos and calm.

Editor: Grace