Mereba

This is the edge—not the fall.
Not the before, not the after. The knowing.
That everything could change in an instant—and still, he stays.

It’s sitting inside the reckoning.
Fear. Grief. The weight of what almost was.
He doesn’t flinch from it. He lets it live in his posture, in his breath, in the way his body holds grace without needing to explain it.

This shoot is not about survival.
It’s about choosing to climb back up—not because it’s easy, but because it matters.

A portrait of presence, shaped by what could’ve been broken.
But wasn’t.
And in that choice—there’s lightness, too.
A soft laugh. A steady step.
Joy, not in spite of the edge, but because of it.

Alfred- Heights