“Annabelle and the Drift of Time”
A tale from the Hydrangea Dream Galaxy
Beneath the round blossoms of Annabelle,
there lies a tiny garden, gently sheltered under its green dome.
In this garden, the breeze of evening begins to stir
even before the raindrops begin their soft descent.
Light, wind, rain, and mist—
though each moves gently and airily,
they flow more swiftly here than anywhere else.
Perhaps because of that,
tiny insects sometimes fall,
as if drifting down from another layer of time.
They land softly on the bloom,
rest quietly for a while—
and then,
with no sound, no trace,
they vanish.
And in their place,
a jewel-like fragment appears on the earth below,
with a beauty so complete,
it seems it could never be altered again.
It must be the result of time layering itself over and over—
of the “something” that once gave birth to the insect
now revealed in the smallest of forms.
Even today, in this little garden beneath the Annabelle,
something gentle is unraveling,
within a time that flows in its own quiet way.
Whether it’s a memory,
a wish,
or a tender feeling—
In this place where time passes softly and swiftly,
all things drift into glittering fragments,
left quietly behind for eternity.
