What remains when the story is over?
 

Not the ending.
Not the beginning.
Just what quietly remains.

Not the plot.
Not the drama.
Not even the truth.

It’s the gesture.

The way we keep walking when the music stops.

 

And somehow — that’s enough.

Innocence

Anticipation

Hope

Reminiscences

The end

Or so we think?

The magic of existence is not in the answer.

Some never name it

Sanja M.

2025