Breath-held secrets of yesteryears linger just beyond the peripheral grasp of the present. Soft whispers ripple through time’s tapestry, weaving ephemeral echoes into the steadfast fabric of memory. Paths obscure themselves with shadows, leaving only traces of old footsteps in half-glance remarks.
Can you not hear the murmurs, the encrypted whispers threading their way across the expanse of days? Listen closely; the fragments dance on the edges of your understanding, skirting the line between veiled truth and the stark clarity of dawn.
Amongst the momentary flickers, seek the story wrapped in whispered dusk—an obscure, cryptic passage engraved on the skin of the twilight wears ever an offer of gaze once diverted.
What waltzes within these shadowed reaches? An answer undefined paranoia sprigged with brittle facts lies just glow away. Enticed by the specter of what could have been, linger not longer but beyond into the whisper with trace untouched.
Fragments of Now