The Visitor
Everyone in the apartment complex noticed the cloud.
It hovered above the mountains, darker and more purposeful than the others, as if it knew exactly where it was going.
Children pointed. Neighbors took photographs. The old woman on the third floor simply smiled.
“They’ve come back,” she whispered.
“Who?”
“The dream-carriers.”
That night, people slept deeply. Forgotten faces appeared in their dreams. Lost songs returned. Old hurts loosened their grip.
By morning, the strange cloud was gone.
But all across the valley, people woke feeling lighter than they had in years.
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
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