Red String

There is an ancient tale, whispered through time, of a red string tied by the hands of fate. They say an old woman, a keeper of destiny, loops it around your pinkie, its invisible thread stretching across miles, across years, across lifetimes—until, at the very end, stands the one you were always meant to find.

I wonder… who waits at the other end of mine?

Are they searching for me too?

Will they bring me joy, or will our tangled thread fray with sorrow?

Or worse—what if I have already met them, but fear kept me from grasping their hand? What if, in my hesitation, I let them slip away, and now, no matter how far I follow this thread, I will never reach them again?