

In the attic, where jazz lingers like a whispered secret, a lonely sofa gazes out at the city’s pulse. Shadows dance on the walls, and unfinished stories haunt the corners. A cat stretches, indifferent, as the skyline fades into a memory, and the whiskey glass waits, half-full.
In the attic, where jazz lingers like a whispered secret, a lonely sofa gazes out at the city’s pulse. Shadows dance on the walls, and unfinished stories haunt the corners. A cat stretches, indifferent, as the skyline fades into a memory, and the whiskey glass waits, half-full.