Later, I wandered back to the old ruins. The stones were cold under my hands, and for a moment, I thought I saw something move in the shadows—maybe a shadow, maybe a memory. I’ve been here so many times, and each time it feels like a different place. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the one who’s lost, or if the world is just… waiting for me to find it.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the answers. But for now, I’m grateful for the quiet, the rain, the whisper. And I hope, just a little, that the world will keep watching over me.