Намисто

When something important falls apart, the first instinct is to put everything back together, even if the beads have rolled under the cabinet and the thread is broken forever. Then you sit among these shards – of feelings, plans, silence – and you catch yourself thinking that it's no longer pain, but just the sound of the wind between unfinished walls. Maybe someday there will be a house there again. But for now, there's only an echo, a faint taste of sour emptiness, and the feeling that even something torn can be beautiful if viewed from afar.