| Notes | Each morning, Mara sat by her window, watching the lone tree framed perfectly against the rolling blue sea. Through spring storms, golden sunsets, or winter’s hush, the tree stood steadfast, branches reaching for distant waves. She imagined its roots tangled with seashells and salt, but that was not possible as this was not rooted in the ground. Peering through the space, Mara realized: the tree was more than scenery, it was a silent friend, reflecting her quiet hope as tides changed beyond the frame. Strange girl that Mara |
