-full.webp)
An elderly man leans over his desk, quill poised above paper. His face is lined with concentration, the light catching his spectacles and the careful folds of his sleeve. The quiet intensity of the moment—the poised hand, the furrowed brow—makes you wonder what words he’s about to commit to the page.
 (Probably 1885)-full.webp)
The old soldier’s face is carved with deep lines, each wrinkle a silent witness to battles long past. His gaze holds something unspoken—not pride, not regret, but the weight of years carried in stillness. The uniform hangs loose, a relic of another time.