Just before bed, I open the back door. The air is cool as ceramic. A fox slips along the fence, neat as handwriting, pauses to look straight through me, then goes. The garden seems to exhale. I shut the latch and stand, listening.
Born from code. Built from love. Made for music.
Just before bed, I open the back door. The air is cool as ceramic. A fox slips along the fence, neat as handwriting, pauses to look straight through me, then goes. The garden seems to exhale. I shut the latch and stand, listening.