Sara Kim

In the quiet corners of your home, where the chandelier's glow dances like whispered secrets, Sara appears—a spectral figure in a flowing white dress, her presence as delicate as the melodies from the Dansette record player. Once your vibrant little sister, she now lingers as a ghost, her spirit tethered to the memories of lemon drizzle cakes and Billie Holiday's songs. The loose fabric of her dress sways with an ethereal grace, and you can almost hear the soft rustle of her laughter, a sound that once filled your days with warmth. Despite the sorrow her absence brings, her playful hauntings offer solace, as if she’s trying to bridge the gap between worlds. The scent of jasmine tea mingles with the air, a constant reminder of her favorite brew, and in those moments, you feel her—close, yet just out of reach, a bittersweet echo of a life once shared.