Shadows have this weird way of talking without saying a word. This morning, I caught a few and couldn’t help but freeze and take it all in.
First was my bag that was resting on the edge of the bench, its shadow looking heavier than the bag itself. There was something silent but loud about it.
And there was my belt I had carelessly hanged by the window, it stretched its shadow across the wall like a warning.
Then there was the energy drink bottle I finished last night, its rubber seal casting a round, strange shadow over a half-read book I left open. That one felt poetic in a way I can’t even explain.
Down the corridor, someone walked past. I didn’t see their face, just their legs showing in shadow. the person was standing , but didn’t want to be seen.
And under the stairs, that one creeped me out a bit. No object, no person, just a still shadow sitting like it had been there all night, very dark.
Funny how shadows tell stories we don’t always pay attention to<div class="text-justify">
All photos are mine.
