As dawn broke over the invisible estate of our collective dreams, the contours started to emerge—phantom outlines tracing the outlines of futures yet realized. Each line, a whisper from yesterday, urging softly in muted tones. “Do you hear that?” I asked the figment, more shadow than substance.
The ground beneath, an unpaved path lined with echoes. With every step we took, the earth remembered; not footprints, but the maps we hadn’t drawn yet. Each contour carried stories unspoken, waits left behind in the balancing act of choices made. “It’s like walking through time itself,” they murmured back, the contours shifting in the wayward light.
Explore Further into the Past Visions Yet to Materialize