Time on the Wall A staircase cuts through space like silence through sound- clean, stark, deliberate. Beneath it, time blooms not from gears, but from memories framed in monochrome. Each moment, a picture. Each picture, a minute. Two hands reach across the past, not to tell you the hour— but to remind you how beautifully fleeting it all is. Even stillness moves.

评论：
Oui et non: 喔，醉了