Have you ever walked through a garden where the flowers whispered secrets in tones you couldn't quite make out? It's a little odd, isn't it? But odd is the door to exploration, where reality glances sideways at illusion and winks knowingly. You stroll in, and somehow, silence resounds louder than a thousand bells.
Imagine plucking a flower, its petals soft as the echoes of a long-lost song, and finding beneath it a note written in the language of moonlight. Perhaps it reads, "Where blossoms dream, the stars find comfort in the absent embrace of midnight." Sweet, isn't it? Like sugar spun webs on a silken breeze.
Want to leave the garden or lose it again? The choice is forever in the echo. Whisper further...