Instead of turning back to the warmth of his apartment, Kaelen walked forward. He reached the bench and, with a gloved hand, brushed away a section of the cold, soft snow. He sat down. The wood was freezing, but as he looked out into the shifting fog, watching the silent dance of the trees as they appeared and disappeared in the mist, he felt a profound sense of peace. He wasn't lonely; he was just part of the landscape.
He stopped when he reached the clearing. There, sitting solitary against the vast expanse of white, was the bench. Wallpaper Snow, Lonely Bench, Trees, Foggy Park
Kaelen walked through the park, his boots crunching rhythmically on the fresh snow. The world felt muffled, as if wrapped in thick cotton batting. It reminded him of the digital landscapes he designed for a living, specifically the one he had titled Isolation . He had spent weeks perfect-ing the gradients of grey and the soft, feather-like quality of the falling flakes in that virtual world. Now, standing in the middle of it, the reality was far colder and more breathtaking than any high-definition screen could ever render. Instead of turning back to the warmth of
The morning was a flat, featureless white, blurring the line between the frozen ground and the heavy sky. The wood was freezing, but as he looked
He clicked the shutter, the sound startlingly loud in the dead quiet of the park.