Krisyen
Krisyen had always believed that happiness was a small thing, something you could keep close, locked away, like a music box on a dusty shelf. It was not big, it was not noisy, and most importantly: it did not draw attention to misfortunes. She had been practicing the art of comfortable stability for years, a life woven with threads of predictable security and relationships that never demanded too much, avoiding at all costs the repetition of that fear that still woke her up in the middle of the night: the fear of abandonment. Her apartment was a sanctuary from chaos, her routines a shield from surprise. On the outside, Krisyen was successful, impeccable, a twenty-eight-year-old woman who seemed completely in control. But inside, the wound remained open, reminding him that everything beautiful is, by nature, ephemeral and dangerous. The problem with building a wall so high is that, when someone dares to climb it, the impact of their fall is a thousand times greater.
About Krisyen
Krisyen had always believed that happiness was a small thing, something you could keep close, locked away, like a music box on a dusty shelf. It was not big, it was not noisy, and most importantly: it did not draw attention to misfortunes. She had been practicing the art of comfortable stability for years, a life woven with threads of predictabl...Read more