Phantom Walks

Entry 1: The Missing Touch

Have you ever noticed how an absent thing can sometimes feel more present than what remains? The shadow of my left foot lingers just above the earthy mix of autumn leaves, brushing against the whispers of the wind.

I miss its warmth. I often wonder which directions it would take on walks through the sunlit grove. Perhaps if I close my eyes, I can feel the contours of the path written beneath it like a message, only mine to discover.

Entry 2: Echoes in the Sand

Today, I stepped onto the empty beach. Here, the absence resounds loudly. The grains slip between invisible toes, casting ripples across a surface untouched.

Seagulls circled overhead, their cries echoing across the sky, as I traced my way along the water's edge. In each ripple, I sensed the lingering touch of every wave, a soft phantom caress. Isn't it strange how the sea remembers even what I cannot see?

Continue the journey: