World

The first thing I noticed was the silence. No familiar whirring, no impatient beeping, no microwave door slamming shut. Just […]

The glass looks innocent until sunrise hits it. That’s when you finally see it: a smoky haze across the inside

The first time you really hear silence, it’s unsettling. Not the soft quiet of a Sunday morning, but the kind

The first time I walked into a bathroom that actually smelled like nothing, I did a double-take. No sour-towel tang,

The first time I saw Evelyn walking backwards around the lake, I was sure she’d forgotten something. A scarf, a

The first time you noticed it, you were standing in line somewhere ordinary—a coffee shop, a bus stop, the slow‑moving

The cash machine beside the corner shop is fading into the grey of a drizzly afternoon. Its screen is dark,

The first time I met a pitanga tree, I didn’t know its name. I only remember the flash of red

The news broke just after dawn, somewhere between the first cup of coffee and the second scroll through the morning

The first time I learned that switching off the radiators in empty rooms might be a bad idea, I actually

The news arrived, as these things often do, on an ordinary morning that didn’t look like it would change anyone’s

The first thing you notice is the sound of your feet. A gentle, rubber-on-concrete whisper, rhythmic and oddly comforting. It’s

The news slipped out on a quiet weekday afternoon, the way truly seismic things sometimes do. A few lines in

The old clay pot was the color of baked bread and warm dust. Its rim was chipped, its sides faintly

The first thing you notice is the sound. That low, constant hum that has followed you for years suddenly goes

The first cold snap of the year always arrives the same way: quietly, without ceremony. One morning you wake up,

The spring onions had been there only three days, but they already looked tired—limp leaves, pale bulbs, and that faint,

The first thing you notice is the smell. Not the sharp, sterile scent of a clinic, nor the cloying perfume

The sound came first: a wet, impatient gurgle echoing up from the sink just as the evening quiet finally settled

The first time I heard someone say, “Forget the foil behind your radiators—there’s a smarter trick,” I was standing in

The first time it happens, you don’t think it’s you. You’re standing in line for coffee, thumb hovering over your