Once, beneath summer's sleepy roar, there whispered a tale interrupted by the clink of time eroding sands. Faded now, like old photographs in forgotten boxes, voices climb impossibly high, and then vanish.
We journeyed through corridors echoes played, seeking the countless faces of dreams dreamt and undone.
Shadows danced, casting charming lies that bore the cheek of truth stripped bare. In places where time stands still, hearts were left, unattended, silent cries etched upon stone.
Behold the ether's gallery, paintings wrought of invisible ink, glowing in the dark. Add whispers to the tapestry, thread by treasured thread, though knowledge is the needle that breaks, new paths sparked in shells that once housed light.