“A Furtive Glance Under the Lights”
- Daniel Owl -
It started with a feeling of immensity. The church standing small under the heavy mountains, reminding me of old journeys. Then, the cemetery—a place where light and peace meet the cold ground, guiding those who rest in the inhospitable dark.
The streets were empty, a cold silence only broken by the warmth of the Christmas lights. Then I saw her. A woman in a flower shop, working alone in the night. I caught a glimpse of her hands through the glass—a quiet, stolen moment of life.
Just a furtive glance before the night hides everything again.
