There are moments suspended in time, when the air itself seems to rest gently around you. Sitting at the edge of the pond, she catches the light like a secret too delicate to speak aloud. The lily pads float quietly, as if the whole world had slowed down to join her in her reverie. Nothing rushes. Everything waits. And in that calm, grace begins to bloom.
Victoria
Barcelona, 30 mai 2025
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