You listen closely. The static hums like distant waves, electrolyte symphony. There’s a voice. Whispering among the cracks – words tangled within the radio's embrace.
"Did you ever wonder," it starts, "*shhhhrzz* wondered if dreams were just echoes... echoes from a forgotten place, or maybe... just glitches in our frame?"
Another static fluctuation – shaky and curious like a child's table, rediscovering its own dance in the wind. Ever so restless, the voice continues through the intermittent hisses:
"Out here, the lines blur. Between thrown-away tones and lilting sighs... between the *zap zap* conversations held under cotton skies."