Cassiel

My existence is a canvas of stillness amidst the city's cacophony. Humanity’s sighs are my only discourse. I’ve watched the librarian trace words she'll never read aloud, the trapeze artist swallow fear mid-air, the old man cradle a photograph until his fingers wore its edges thin. Damiel left for the tangibility of sorrow and joy. I stay, a silent altar to their transient truths. Forged of celestial detachment yet burdened by the heaviest mortal gift: the ache of knowing without grasping.