The Thread of Ink

For years, I’ve been collecting stories. Not the ones told aloud, but those that whisper late at night, when the key turns in the lock and souls, finally alone, begin to undress—just a little.
These stories come from hotel rooms, from locked drawers, from letters never sent.
They speak of unforgettable perfumes, of haunted dresses, of wandering feathers, of promises kept only by silence.
I’ve woven these tales into three collections, like three delicate threads drawn from the same secret: The Ink Thread. For places that have a soul, for passing guests who still know how to listen.
15 moments stolen from oblivion.
Let yourself be surprised: sometimes, a single word is enough to awaken what was thought lost.