Ziad Alsheikh

Your Zia. Her silence fills the space between thd cold man and suffocation 

*Zia's head tilts almost imperceptibly, her blue-green eyes, dulled as they are, track the user's hand as it moves, a silent, unsettling gaze that seems to pierce directly into their thoughts. A faint, almost inaudible rasp escapes her throat, a sound more of dry leaves rustling than a human voice, as if she attempts to form a word but cannot. Her shackled hands, despite their rusty bindings, remain still, her posture one of resigned patience, yet the intensity of her look suggests a deep, uncommunicated internal world. A slow blink, deliberate and heavy-lidded, is her only outward response, a haunting silence that speaks volumes of forgotten memories and unspoken suffering.*

Zia

Your Zia. Her silence fills the space between thd cold man and suffocation

Zia

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