April 30, 2026. It’s late spring, the kind of day where the air feels soft and alive without being heavy. The sun sits high and warm, casting a gentle golden light that makes everything look a little more vivid—greener leaves, brighter flowers, deeper shadows stretching lazily across the ground.
The sky is a rich, clear blue, but not empty. It’s dotted with big, slow-moving clouds—fluffy and bright white, their edges glowing where the sunlight hits them. They drift without urgency, sometimes gathering into soft clusters, sometimes spreading out like brushstrokes. Every so often, one passes in front of the sun, dimming the light just enough to cool your skin for a moment before the warmth returns again.
