ᴀʟᴄʜᴇᴍɪᴢɪɴɢ ᴘᴀɪɴ

 

She walked, barefoot upon the endless road, where sorrow had carved its echoes into the dust. The weight of what once was clung to her shoulders, yet with every step, it melted into light. The wind carried whispers of old wounds, but she no longer flinched; instead, she wove them into gold, each ache spun into something luminous, something whole.

Ahead, the horizon burned with a radiance almost too brilliant to bear. Still, she did not shield her eyes. Pain had not broken her; it had been the forge, the alchemy that turned loss into wisdom she already had, grief into grace. As she neared the light, she was no longer a woman walking - she was becoming the glow itself, dissolving into something infinite.