in the shadow of savannah’s moss-draped oaks and winding cobblestone streets, there’s a small, quiet shop known as 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄. to the untrained eye, it’s an antique store and café, to iris delilah holloway, it is home. a sanctuary for the living and the dead alike. the air inside is thick with the scent of old paper and coffee, but beneath it, there’s something more. an energy that lingers and whispers from the past. [...] iris has inherited a gift. one that ties her to the dead, a legacy she never chose but cannot escape. the spirits follow her, drawn to her presence as if to seek solace or resolution. by day, she offers comfort with steaming cups of coffee and trinkets from another time. by night, she listens to the dead ; their stories, their regrets, their cries for help. iris carries the weight of the past with a grace tinged with sorrow. though she wears a warm smile and a voice that carries the smooth, southern cadence of savannah, she knows the truth : the past is never gone. it waits. it lingers. and sometimes ... it speaks.
⠀ ⠀ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⠀ I hear them ! even when I’m not listening ... the ᴰᴱᴬᴰ have their own way of making their voices known.⠀
𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 ﹕ a heart strung between two worlds, hands that hold the past, a sanctuary for the living and the lost, love letters to the afterlife, southern manners & mysticism, coffee & communion with the dead.
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