Dawn breaks with a silent scream, the echo of yesterday's dreams lingering in the twilight shadows.
The old clock, a relic of forgotten time, ticks irregularly, as if mocking the rhythm of life outside.
A raven calls, its voice split between reality and some hidden memory, a song half-remembered.
The horizon stretches, painted with hues of desolation and hope, an ever-turning wheel.
Do you remember the field? The one filled with wildflowers and whispers?
Perhaps it doesn't exist, a figment of the mind, a mirage in the desert of thought.
The Adventure Unfolds