A woman counts her child's breaths.
A man dies and leaves a geocache of wishes.
A child discovers there are no wrong roads home.
Here, handwriting becomes intimacy, scent becomes memory, and the gaps between words hold as much meaning as the words themselves. These are stories of toxic love and tender grace, of ghosts both literal and metaphorical, of the small apocalypses and quiet resurrections that shape our daily lives. Like shards of glass catching light, each piece reflects a different facet of what it means to be human-beautiful, dangerous, and impossibly fragile.
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