Whorls in the Gravel

At the bottom of the granite steps, the gravel shifted softly beneath my shoes. Among the jagged grey stones, a tiny, pale snail shell lay wedged on its side. I knelt low, steadying myself with one hand flat against a damp cobblestone. The chalky ridges curled in a precise, narrowing spiral toward an empty center. I nudged its apex with my fingertip, tilting the aperture upward to catch the overhead noon light. It was brittle and cold, yet its curve carried an exacting symmetry. Even out here in the dirt, order quietly repeats itself. #uzumaki #Junjiito #Azamikurotani