Ink & Empathy

Previously

…Sunlight, dappled through the generous leaves of an ancient oak, painted shifting mosaics on the cracked pavement. Pigeons strutted with an air of self-importance, pecking at invisible crumbs. Children, a riot of brightly colored clothing and uninhibited laughter, chased each other in dizzying circles, their joy a sharp, almost painful contrast to the quiet ache that had taken root in Elara’s chest. Her notebook lay open on her lap, its pages stark white, mocking her. The pen, a familiar weight in her hand, felt alien, inert. It had been weeks, months perhaps