beechnut1969
The Joy Between Breaths
She sat barefoot on the London grass, laughter unguarded, hands lifted as if to balance the invisible. Around her, the city moved in quiet rhythm — strangers passing, conversations drifting like smoke. Yet in that small circle of light, she seemed to hold the air itself, reminding anyone who noticed that joy is not performed, but discovered — a moment between breaths, caught and released again.
The Joy Between Breaths
She sat barefoot on the London grass, laughter unguarded, hands lifted as if to balance the invisible. Around her, the city moved in quiet rhythm — strangers passing, conversations drifting like smoke. Yet in that small circle of light, she seemed to hold the air itself, reminding anyone who noticed that joy is not performed, but discovered — a moment between breaths, caught and released again.