Whisper on the edge of dreams, a flicker of the old streetlamp... do you remember when the rain fell like laughter echoing off the cobblestones, soaking through the echo of a smile never spoken aloud? The scent of wet earth mingling with leatherbound bookshops hiding secrets untold. What was it that she said, back then, when time slouched comfortably behind a closed door?
Silhouettes dance in candlelight shadows in the back of deserted cafes, chairs scraping against unyielding floors, a melody of nostalgia playing just below perception. Do you hear it? The notes of a fugue that never quite resolved… Metronomic, unavoidable, persistent.
Between the lines of forgotten letters, those inked whispers left unanswered, lies a story untold. Absurdly, you think the sea remembers — the endless murmuring tide knows. Turn the page, listen. Are you there?