When the Story Continues
Some people cross your path only once — fleeting, like a train ride shared with a stranger, or a quick exchange before the doors close and everyone moves on.
And then there are the rare ones who return. You meet again — not by plan, but with a quiet sense of familiarity. As if the time in between had never really stretched that far. As if an invisible thread had been there all along, loosely tying your lives together across places, jobs, and years.
And then there are the rare ones who return. You meet again — not by plan, but with a quiet sense of familiarity. As if the time in between had never really stretched that far. As if an invisible thread had been there all along, loosely tying your lives together across places, jobs, and years.