Miami, a city that never sleeps, pulsates with energy. The streets buzz, people rush, and time races. In this whirlwind, I find myself caught, always chasing something. My patience wears thin, and my temper flares.
Enter my little girl, a bundle of joy with a world of her own. Her melodies, though not words, are music to my ears. But her world is different; she is non-verbal autistic. I yearn to understand her, but my impatience builds walls.
One day, as the Miami sun sets, painting the sky in hues of gold, my daughter takes my hand. Her eyes, deep pools of emotion, look into mine. She hums a tune, her fingers tapping a rhythm. Time slows down.