haroo.day
a quiet meditation on a single day — 하루
a quiet meditation on a single day — 하루
The sky has not yet decided what color to be. A pale silver leaks across the ceiling and the kettle begins its small private prayer.
The city breathes in and everyone moves at once. Beneath the surface, a hundred small circles — coffee cups, clock faces, steam rings — drift upward without a destination.
The day has reached its fullest inflation. Shadows stand straight up under every pillow-cloud. Everything is, for a single quiet minute, exactly itself.
A soft hour lands on the desk like a folded blanket. The particles slow, the clouds lean closer together, and the window gathers a warm gray of its own making.
The light folds itself into the slate of the evening. Each inflated form takes a deeper breath, and the cool gray of morning returns as an older gray.
One day, again. 하루, 또 하루.