Trust the shadows; they remember what the light forgets.
In the margin of this metallic sea, the penguins: statues seeking salty tears. Scribbles upon icebergs; margins containing sentences that forget to resume. Their stories flicker on the edge, where the warm breeze kisses the cold myth. Absurd postage for an elsewhere unveiled under the gentle crescent glow.
Review the glacial report | Silent echoes The curious flippers