In the folds of quiet, whispers become shadows. Listen close, for silence speaks in riddles. "Are you there?" it asks, echoing through corridors of the mind untouched by light.
The footprints in the sand of sound trail away from the ocean of forgotten words. Each step distant, yet familiar—a phantom dance upon the ley lines of your thoughts.
An odyssey begins not with footsteps, but with the silence that precedes each call into the void. Is it an invitation? A farewell? Only the mirrors of the mind can tell.