Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh

Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh. 

The cliff holds the day like a last sip of mulled wine. You see the city breathing below, a slow tide of lights and small hopes. 

Up here the rock remembers before we had names for our hungers. Down there the streets hum with people who will not quit. 

The sun leans low and the world goes amber. Trees stand like quiet witnesses and the paths curve as if the land is teaching patience. The laugh on a doorstep. A stove left on for soup. A promise you keep to yourself. 

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