A lone willow bends by the silent river, its branches tracing secrets on the water’s surface. An old fisherman rows slowly, his net cast into the shimmering twilight. He remembers a promise made decades ago beneath these very branches—a vow to return when the moon hung fullest. Now, as silver light dances on the waves, he waits. The wind carries fragments of a forgotten song, and for a moment, the past and present blur. He smiles, for some bonds are never truly broken by time or tide. The riv...
