Panama City Beach

I picked a direction and went

Somewhere along the way the air changed. The closer I got the more everything softened—until I drove straight into it. Fog, thick enough to take over the entire place.

From that point on it wasn’t about finding anything specific. It was just seeing what showed up.

Most of it was quiet. Not empty, just paused.

Lights didn’t reach as far as they should have. Colors stayed close. Everything felt contained, like each scene was it’s own small world.