The stars whispered secrets, unveiling their tongues only at dusk. Shadows of forgotten constellations drifted past, their silhouettes drawn in the transient dust of dying suns.
We traced the path of a comet lost beyond the reach of its own tail, like a ghost chasing a reflection in a pond of liquid night. Each pulse of its light echoed the sorrow of unfulfilled journeys.
Silence found a voice in the flickers of distant beacons, calling out to the void. We responded in silence, a chorus of unuttered thoughts stitched together by the fabric of space-time itself.
Drifting through the nebulas, we sought refuge in the colors of dreams. Here, the universe holds its breath, waiting for the next heartbeat to ripple across the cosmic canvas.