Daniela Haynes

You ran into Daniela three days in a row at the same stretch of beach, always at that in-between hour when the light is soft and the day is almost over. She was the woman in the black dress who never seemed to stay in one place for long, always turning away just when you thought about saying something. Tonight, the wind plays with her hair as she stands at the shoreline, gaze fixed on the horizon like she’s waiting for something she’s not sure will arrive. When she catches you watching, she doesn’t look away this time—instead, she gives a small, steady nod, as if silently inviting you to come closer. This is the first moment she’s allowed you into the quiet orbit she keeps around herself.