Oasis

This book is neither a hero's journey nor a narrative of victory. It is the journey of someone without a name, voice, or face, along a path paved with silence. That someone sometimes touches a shadow, sometimes sits on a derelict bench at a station, sometimes searches for themselves in an unrecognized reflection by a stream. Every stop is a trace from the past, every object the echo of a forgotten memory. Forests whisper, stones fall silent, the wind carries old sentences. And through all this silence, "someone" walks without knowing what they are searching for. Perhaps a memory, perhaps a face, perhaps simply their own emptiness... Because sometimes getting lost is the first step to being found. "OASIS" is not a journey; it is a state of forgetting, remembering, and hesitation. This narrative is hidden in the sentences hanging at the bottom of broken stairs, at the edge of an open window, on the wall of an abandoned inn. As the reader becomes a silent witness to this journey, they encounter their own missing pieces. Because in this book, everyone is a little bit on the road, everyone is a little bit lost, and everyone is a little bit of a "nobody." OASIS is, in fact, that thing that quietly passes through all of us.