132c5c5d72d

5 months ago

Camera: Isolated, slow-motion shots of leaves swirling in the air. Mood: Outward calm, but laced with doubt and disorientation. Lighting: The leaves barely reflect the sky’s light; they’re dull and faded. Inner Monologue (Voice-over or internal): "The moment I set pen to paper… my mind starts throwing stones."

5 months ago

Camera: Medium side shot. Movement: He sits slowly, without speaking. Lighting: His face is in half-shadow, lit only by cold natural light from the side. Action: He stares ahead, as if about to speak, but the words won’t come. Sound: The soft moan of wind weaving through the branches.

5 months ago

Camera: Medium shot, ¾ angle facing his face. Movement: He places a hand on the tree trunk. His eyes trace the old scars in the bark. Details: Tiny mushrooms around the base, bark peeling away. Feeling: The cypress stands like a relic of severed memories—like someone who was never allowed to grow. Background: Mist softens the shapes of the trees in the distance.

5 months ago

Camera: Slow tracking shot from behind. Movement: The man walks with no rush. Hands in his pockets, head down. Environmental Details: Broken branches, cracked mud-brick walls, soft soil. Lighting: Overcast sky diffuses the light; everything is soft, without contrast. Sound: Only the sound of footsteps. A sudden flutter as a bird escapes from a bush. Emotion: It feels like he’s returned after a long time. He’s not looking for anything—just observing.

5 months ago

Camera: Static wide shot; an open view of a forgotten garden. Setting: Leafless trees, a rusted bench, wet ground from rain that fell hours ago. Sound: Wind blowing, dry leaves rustling, the distant caw of a crow. Atmosphere: A garden that was once beautiful, now void of human presence. In the distance, a faint mist rises from the ground. Change: After a few moments, a figure slowly enters the frame. His steps crunch the fallen leaves beneath him.