It’s Not Quiet in the Void by Annie Aries draws you into a warm, expansive reach. Softened shards of sound—like sea glass—pierce and glint, while high-voltage threads weave into a thick, grounding cord. It feels like dawn turning tangerine, bristling with potential: a slow lunge, an undeniable shift, an unveiling. Recognition arrives as an intangible certainty—meaning surfacing inside a dream—a threshold crossed.