# Fragments Gathered

## The Pull of Collections

An anthology is a quiet gathering—stories, poems, thoughts pulled from vast seas of words. Not everything makes the cut; only what resonates, what lingers. In a world overflowing with voices, it reminds us that meaning hides in selection. We sift through lives, keeping what shapes us, letting the rest drift away.

## A Simple Vessel in .md

Markdown offers no frills, just plain text turned readable. On anthologies.md, it becomes a digital shelf for personal troves. No flashy designs, no endless scrolls—just clean lines holding essays, notes, memories. It's like a notebook passed hand to hand, inviting others to add their page. In this format, anyone curates: a recipe from grandma, a lesson from failure, a sunset's description.

## Curating Our Days

Life unfolds as our own anthology. We choose moments to preserve—conversations that warm, mistakes that teach, joys that surprise. By 2025's close, as days shorten, I reflect on entries added this year: small kindnesses amid rush, quiet walks in snow. Each piece connects, forming a whole greater than parts.

- A stranger's smile on a gray morning.
- Words reread in the night.
- Shared recipes that taste like home.

Curation isn't hoarding; it's making sense of the scatter.

*What story will you add to your shelf today?*