Vein Garden

Crimson capillaries blossomed beneath the skin, a delicate network visible against paler flesh as a hand pressed firmly on the slick glass surface. A rhythmic pulse throbbed in each vein—a subtle swell and subside that mirrored every shift of pressure. The faint lines weren’t simply pathways for blood, but appeared to hold echoes of past contacts, layered like geological strata. With continued touch, the glass seemed to accumulate these histories; a quiet palimpsest forming beneath the fingertips.