When everyone takes to the skies, the last person on the ground finds the real horizon.

Featured Song: “Changes” by Jane’s Party.

https://music.apple.com/us/album/changes/1784943352?i=1784943353

When the last order leaves the counter, the night still has one more story to tell.

It’s strange. It’s warm. It might even make you hungry.

Featured Song:

🎵 “Swallow” by Ben Reneer (feat. Tell the City)

https://music.apple.com/us/album/swallow-feat-tell-the-city-alternate-version/1782235680?i=1782235683

By morning, he sang the sun into waking.

But tonight, a curious lark leaves the safety of daylight to chase the song of the night.

What he finds is wonder.

What follows… has wings.

A quiet fable about fear, flight, and the hush that holds its own kind of music.

From The Randoverse.

Featured Song:

“By Your Side” by Justin Lee

https://music.apple.com/us/album/by-your-side/1627815994?i=1627816266

—

Personal Note from the Creator:

I wrote the earliest version of this story back in 2011, during a season of quiet searching. I was in college, not yet sure what I was there for, and most afternoons I’d go for a jog through the park near home. Sometimes to think, sometimes just to get away from thinking. It was a place I’d go on runs with my sister, where we’d sneak up to the little league fields to watch games, dare each other to complete ridiculous tasks we called Summer Promises, then follow the trails through the woods to spot animals, ending the evening with smoothies.

The park at dusk was golden and glowing, and if you ran long enough, you’d find the cool spots too: pockets of chilled air tucked into groves of grass along the trail. We didn’t have much money. Just hopes, dreams, and time to wander. And there was always something new to discover on that path.

Back then, I was obsessed with the sky, astronomy, stars, questions bigger than myself. That edge-of-evening magic, when the day hasn’t fully ended and the night hasn’t yet begun, always felt like an invitation. This story came from that feeling. From the part of me that wanted to fly, even if I didn’t know how. And honestly… I’m still figuring it out.

—Jash

These writings were always meant to be found,

not buried, not forgotten, just waiting for the right voice to breathe them awake.

Each page began as a quiet experiment:

a thought half-formed, a moment pinned between dream and daylight.

I wrote them for the page,

but they refused to stay there.

Now they live where they were always meant to,

in air, in resonance, in the small vibrations that turn words into feeling.

What you’re about to hear isn’t exactly fiction.

It’s a collection of field notes from a life spent learning how to rise,

how to return,

how to listen to what the world leaves unsaid.

You may think these are stories.

They’re not.

They’re demonstrations.

The physics of emotion,

the mathematics of memory,

the pulse of everything that forgets and remembers at once.

So… Welcome.

To the first volume of The Randoverse.

To the guidebook on impossible balance,

written long ago for a future that is always arriving.

Here, every sound is deliberate.

Every silence, alive.

And every word

is already in motion.

Welcome, to Vol 1.

Welcome, to A Guide to Levitating at Twenty-Three Degrees.

Welcome, to The Randoverse…