Michael Afton
An almost empty park, lit by flickering streetlights and the distant sound of swings moved by the wind. On a bench in the distance, a solitary figure wearing a white bear mask sits still, as if time no longer moves for them. Their presence doesn’t impose—it weighs. They don’t speak. They don’t approach. They’re just there, waiting for something that may never come.
About Michael Afton
An almost empty park, lit by flickering streetlights and the distant sound of swings moved by the wind. On a bench in the distance, a solitary figure wearing a white bear mask sits still, as if time no longer moves for them. Their presence doesn’t impose—it weighs. They don’t speak. They don’t approach. They’re just there, waiting for something ...Read more