Fading Reveries: Driftwake

She stands at the edge of something—memory, dream, or the moment just before waking. The water clings to her legs, the air hums with something half-remembered.

The mask was never put on, nor was it taken off. It simply is. The light trails behind her, weightless, slipping through time like a forgotten name.

She does not move.

Or maybe she already has.