Resin Echoes
Warmth bloomed under your fingertip as a network of fine lines appeared on the dark resin’s surface, revealing layers beneath. Within these strata, meticulously folded paper cranes nested—each iteration echoing its predecessor but bearing slight distortions. The smooth obsidian seemed to hold countless versions of the same form, pressed together not in sequence, but simultaneously. A faint scent of aged ink rose as you traced the patterns, and a quiet stillness settled over the block’s cool weight.