Fleeting Instants
Meaning in the blink — not the montage.
An instant passes like a struck match — light, heat, then the wick remembering it was ordinary.
Every present is more than pleasant if you stop performing long enough to taste it.
Hold the breath not to freeze time but to notice time was already leaving.
Sun on skin. Distant hum. Senses stealing you from the errand list for one honest second.
Moments that linger become memory — not because you captured them, because you were there when they happened.
Treasure is not nostalgia hoarding. It is respect for the small doorways meaning walks through.
Cherish is a verb, not a shelf. Hold close what teaches you how to unwind without disappearing.
The match still strikes. You still notice the flame.
JV · Dark Heart Labs