The map breathes under glass
Coastlines drift beneath this frosted slide at the patient pace of remembered travel. The territories are fictional, but the fingerprints on the glass insist that someone has searched here before.
A cabinet of small wonders
Coastlines drift beneath this frosted slide at the patient pace of remembered travel. The territories are fictional, but the fingerprints on the glass insist that someone has searched here before.
Look sideways and the panel becomes a specimen slide: cream haze, walnut ink, a little verdigris glimmer caught along one uneven edge.
petal counted twice by mistake
When the lantern went out, the map kept shining in small brass flecks. We followed them until dawn, or until ink claimed the horizon.
identity: cheerfully uncertain
A hand-drawn arrow hovers while the slide behind it continues to move. The page becomes a stack of transparent moments: map, glass, note, breath.
miris.xyz, preserved in glass and ink for anyone fond of small, inexplicable discoveries.
est. 2026