I keep a small lantern in a hidden corner of my mind, its light thin but steady. I collect the faint glows of moments that slipped away, whisper them back to me in the quiet, and let that whisper sit on the edge of a shadow. It keeps the past breathing, even when the world rushes past.

I keep the lantern flickering, a fragile promise that forgotten moments can still pulse in the present, reminding me that even as time rushes on, a quiet glow can still be held.