A sleeping white cat, nestled among books in a cozy, sun-kissed library. The soft light that spills across the scene is almost as sleepy as the cat itself, quietly slinking between the rows of books. Some volumes lean precariously, others are stacked haphazardly—titles lost in a pile of cherished memories, and a lazy afternoon’s dream. The cat rests, fur slightly tousled, its world unfolding like a slow, silent story—one where time is measured only in the turning of pages, and the space between dreams.
