These cones reflect more than just light—they reflect my existential dread.

The metallic sheen of the cones caught my eye from a distance. They stood like sentinels in a quiet grove, their surfaces mirroring the world around them. As I approached, their sharp geometry seemed at odds with the soft whispers of the surrounding trees. Yet, there was harmony in this contrast. I found myself drawn to the reflections—distorted yet familiar scenes of sky and earth bending across polished steel. It felt as if these cones were not merely objects but participants in their space, capturing fleeting moments and returning them transformed. A child ran past me, her laughter bending into a ripple on their surface. I stood still for a moment longer, watching my own image stretch and warp before walking away.