The scene shifted. It wasn't a memory he recognized. It was the life he didn't live. The screen showed him coming home to a small, sunlit house. Sita was there, older, her hair streaked with silver, laughing at a joke he made. There were children—blurry, indistinct, but present. The warmth radiating from the screen was palpable. It smelled of coffee and paper books.

Fictional storytelling / journaling / mental health app