The cups are neatly arranged.
Everything must be perfect.
He’s a little nervous.
But he sits up straight, just like he was taught.
She will come. Definitely.

It rained during the day, but now it has warmed up, and the night city is wrapped in thick fog. I was just walking around the center, and now I’m back in my neighborhood. The cars are covered in tiny droplets of dew. The fog highlights the glow of the weary streetlights. A very cozy moment.

A May evening in the city center.

The sky is densely overcast with a thick veil of clouds. The intensifying rain just made me lazily reach into my backpack for an umbrella, then pull it from its case and open the large black dome above me.

Headlights reflect in the wet asphalt. It’s a beautiful and mysterious moment — on the edge of day and night, on the edge of water and the fire of the nighttime city.

Came across a falling lilac bush in the city center. I’m always amazed by how adaptable plants are. Trees growing even on rooftops — or this lilac bush, on the verge of collapsing, yet still holding on and delighting us with its spring attire.

You walk down a noisy street. Everything is predictable — you know what you’ll see, you know how this evening will end. It feels safe; you’ve walked this path a thousand times before.

But then you pass an archway that leads into the darkness. What awaits you there?

Earlier this evening — a Moment That Illuminated the Garden .