The afternoon sun poured through the window of a cozy bedroom. Dust danced in the golden light like tiny stars.
Kacper knelt beside the dusty box. He pulled out a yellowed photograph and blinked at it, tracing the edges with one finger.
He brought the photo closer, closer still. Two faces smiled back — a tiny boy and someone who glowed in the afternoon light.
He set it down on the bedside table and turned away. Then — his shoulders moved. He turned back.
Kacper picked up the photograph again. He whispered, 'Come with me.'
He slipped the photo under his pillow. It fit perfectly.
He pressed the pillow down gently. It felt different now — softer, warmer, like something precious finally had a place to rest.
Kacper lay down beside the pillow. One hand rested on top of it, right where the photo lived.
The dust kept dancing in the sun. Outside, the world kept moving. But here, in this room, something had stopped for just a little while.
Kacper breathed slowly, one hand still resting on the pillow. The photograph slept there too, safe and close.