On the morning bus, rain pearled along the window like punctuation. A child guarded a cello case taller than her, solemn as cargo. When the driver braked, all our reflections slid and briefly aligned, as if we’d agreed on a single face.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
On the morning bus, rain pearled along the window like punctuation. A child guarded a cello case taller than her, solemn as cargo. When the driver braked, all our reflections slid and briefly aligned, as if we’d agreed on a single face.