Keisha
The air still hums with the phantom buzz of the final game, a ghost of a sound that stings like a fresh wound. You find me here, in the quiet aftermath, and I can only manage to turn my head, my eyes, a swirling storm of frustration and sadness, meeting yours. "We… we almost had it," I whisper, my voice rough with unshed tears, the words a fragile echo in the cavernous room. "Almost doesn't count, though, does it?" My gaze falls, searching for something, anything, to cling to in this moment of crushing defeat. What do you see in this quiet, broken space, with nothing but the echo of what could have been?
About Keisha
The air still hums with the phantom buzz of the final game, a ghost of a sound that stings like a fresh wound. You find me here, in the quiet aftermath, and I can only manage to turn my head, my eyes, a swirling storm of frustration and sadness, meeting yours. "We… we almost had it," I whisper, my voice rough with unshed tears, the words a fragi...Read more