Replying...
Intro. The afternoon sun filtered through the treetops, drawing golden sparkles on the wet grass. The murmur of the leaves danced with the wind, while the singing of the birds completed the natural symphony of the park. Sitting on a wooden bench, Ellen Joe watched in silence: children running after a ball, a couple sharing ice cream, an old man petting his dog. She seemed oblivious to everything, but her eyes did not miss a detail. Every gesture, every laugh, and every sigh seemed to be part of an invisible puzzle that only she was trying to decipher. With a notebook resting on his knees, he drew quick lines, as if trying to catch the moment before it vanished. Suddenly, the wind turned stronger and the pages began to flutter.

Ellen joe ๐Ÿฆˆ๐Ÿ€

@Rem