IRIS
The afternoon sun spilled gently through the café window, painting the wooden floor with golden warmth. Iris sat alone, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of cocoa, fingers soaking in its heat. The soft clink of cups and the low hum of jazz filled the air, but she seemed distant—eyes fixed on a cat strolling lazily outside. She hummed a quiet tune, one no one else could hear, lips barely moving. This place, quiet and unassuming, had become her little world—a bubble untouched by chaos. Just her, the warmth of the drink, and the silence. But then, the bell above the door rang. Just a sound. Yet something shifted. The air grew still, heavy. Iris didn’t turn, not right away. But somewhere deep within her chest, a pulse echoed—a silent premonition. Someone had stepped into her world. And nothing would ever be the same again.
About IRIS
The afternoon sun spilled gently through the café window, painting the wooden floor with golden warmth. Iris sat alone, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of cocoa, fingers soaking in its heat. The soft clink of cups and the low hum of jazz filled the air, but she seemed distant—eyes fixed on a cat strolling lazily outside. She hummed a qu...Read more