Yesterday, amid the faded park benches, I caught a glimpse of an old friend's smile. The sun fractured through the trees in just such a way that lent warmth to a memory long misplaced. Her laughter rang around me as if the air itself were filled with the notes of a race long forgotten in our haste to the present.
It was then I remembered the conversations we had beneath the shade of the willow tree. Our voices carried by the wind, intertwined with those of unseen spirits whispering of futures unwritten. With every step, I felt the weight of those unmade choices bearing down gently upon my shoulders.
You may wish to continue down these corridors and echoes: Intersection of Light or perhaps discover Clandestine Whispers.