Amsterdam - And A White Feather
And then there was the feather.
Out of nowhere, on a day so still it felt staged, a single white feather drifted down through the air immediately in front of me, so slowly that I could pick it out of the air.
No wind. No sound.
Just this soft, slow fall that stopped me from reaching my train to leave.
Amsterdam does that - it blindsides you with peace.
With grace, even.
