Marine Snow
The snow that reached the ocean floor whispered,
“It feels like a miracle.”
The sea — dark, endless, and clear — said,
“No.”
“Fate.”
This is not a story.
It is a record of what happened.
The snow that reached the ocean floor whispered,
“It feels like a miracle.”
The sea — dark, endless, and clear — said,
“No.”
“Fate.”
This is not a story.
It is a record of what happened.