At first glance, everything sits just right.
Rows of houses, each one slightly different, but all part of the same quiet rhythm. Pastel walls, trimmed hedges, the hum of a life designed for comfort.
But overhead, something shifts. A wave rises from nowhere. Too large. Too old.
It doesn’t belong here, and it doesn’t care.
The ocean doesn’t ask questions. It doesn’t knock.
It just waits, full of weight, right on the edge.
And somehow, that pause is louder than the crash.
