A world within a world — an entire Mediterranean valley with its cliffside towns, winding roads, and ancient mountains exists as a floating fragment torn from reality, suspended in an endless ocean of still blue water. Two birds circle freely in the gap between what is real and what remains, indifferent to the impossibility around them. Once you've seen depth like this — in a place, in a person, in a feeling — everything flat and familiar loses its hold. This piece is about the irreversible moment of having your standard permanently raised, and the quiet loneliness that follows.
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