“Rain-Dried Stone and the Stillness Between”

She sat just off-center from the great chapel, a solitary figure in layered scarves and boots, as if waiting for a thought to return. The stone was still damp from an earlier rain, though the sun had since pushed through—hesitant but faithful. Her gaze met the distance, or perhaps something unseen in herself. In a city shaped by centuries of questions and quiet resolve, she became one more gentle interruption in the story of the lawn.

 

Done