If I folded one for every email I ignored, I’d have a thousand by now.

The burst of colors pulled me in like a kaleidoscope frozen mid-spin. Each crane seemed to whisper its own story, folded into its fragile wings. I thought about the hands that made them—steady, hopeful hands shaping paper into something more. The display felt alive, chaotic yet purposeful. It was as though each crane was trying to take flight but was content to rest here for just a moment longer.