
A face of perfect composure. Two hands still busy with a crown. A tiny human comedy, held in weathered stone.

A little doorway keeps its darkness. Beneath the waterline, another appears — just as clear, and impossible to touch.

The faintest smile rests beneath an elaborate crown. Beyond the interrupted arms and fractured stone, two carefully carved bare feet await discovery.

The forest has a thousand directions. The great face has only one, and keeps it.