Alex Amore
Into the sun (contest solo 2)
'TAKEN AT SECRET LIFE LOUNGE FOR 10TH ANNIVERSARY PHOTO CONTEST' . maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Beausoleil/190/3/26
Every year, on the night when the sun dipped low enough to touch the sea, the village lit the Path of Bottled Stars.
They said the bottles weren’t lanterns at all, but memories—each glowing spark a moment someone wished to keep safe. The bridge only appeared fully on this night, its planks illuminated by drifting orbs that rose like fireflies set free.
Tonight, Alex walked it alone… or almost alone. Bullet, his loyal dog trotted beside him, tail wagging as if it sensed the quiet excitement thrumming in the air.
He had left this place years ago, chasing answers, chasing life, chasing anything that wasn’t the heartbreak he’d fled from. But every dream he’d ever had in the years since ended the same: standing on this bridge at sunset, staring toward the town he once called home.
Tonight felt different. The air shimmered with a soft hum, as if the bottled memories recognized him.
As he reached the center of the bridge, one of the orbs drifted close—glowing warm gold. It pulsed gently, hovering at his chest, as if asking a question.
“Are you sure?”
He exhaled. “Yeah,” he whispered.
The orb brightened—then burst into thousands of tiny stars that spiraled toward the shore.
A silhouette stepped out from the glow on the other side. Familiar. Unmistakable. Waiting.
The dog barked once, happy and impatient.
He smiled—small at first, then with the sudden, overwhelming certainty that after all the running, all the years lost, the path was leading him home.
And so he walked forward, through the drifting lights and the shimmering memories, into eternity toward the person he had never stopped missing.
Into the sun (contest solo 2)
'TAKEN AT SECRET LIFE LOUNGE FOR 10TH ANNIVERSARY PHOTO CONTEST' . maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Beausoleil/190/3/26
Every year, on the night when the sun dipped low enough to touch the sea, the village lit the Path of Bottled Stars.
They said the bottles weren’t lanterns at all, but memories—each glowing spark a moment someone wished to keep safe. The bridge only appeared fully on this night, its planks illuminated by drifting orbs that rose like fireflies set free.
Tonight, Alex walked it alone… or almost alone. Bullet, his loyal dog trotted beside him, tail wagging as if it sensed the quiet excitement thrumming in the air.
He had left this place years ago, chasing answers, chasing life, chasing anything that wasn’t the heartbreak he’d fled from. But every dream he’d ever had in the years since ended the same: standing on this bridge at sunset, staring toward the town he once called home.
Tonight felt different. The air shimmered with a soft hum, as if the bottled memories recognized him.
As he reached the center of the bridge, one of the orbs drifted close—glowing warm gold. It pulsed gently, hovering at his chest, as if asking a question.
“Are you sure?”
He exhaled. “Yeah,” he whispered.
The orb brightened—then burst into thousands of tiny stars that spiraled toward the shore.
A silhouette stepped out from the glow on the other side. Familiar. Unmistakable. Waiting.
The dog barked once, happy and impatient.
He smiled—small at first, then with the sudden, overwhelming certainty that after all the running, all the years lost, the path was leading him home.
And so he walked forward, through the drifting lights and the shimmering memories, into eternity toward the person he had never stopped missing.