You came for a sunset. You wanted the slow exhale, the postcard, the day finally going to bed. This one isn't tired. It's loud. It's red. It refuses to hand over the quiet you arrived expecting. Peace was never the absence of noise. It's the part of you that doesn't flinch. I painted what dusk feels like, not what it looks like. If the colour feels like too much — the colour isn't the problem.