Between the curtains of a twilight room, visions of yesterday's tomorrow linger.
She yawned, a portal opening, seized by the breath of centuries past.
Leaving footprints in sands that were never shores, she danced under cosmic tides.
"Do you remember," whispered the old clock, "when mornings were marinated in starlight?"
The answer came like a gentle gust, swirling through the tapestry of bygone realms.
In each blink, a universe awaited—somewhere else, someone else, becoming.
The curtains parted, and time spilled onto the floor, pooling around bare feet.
Echoes of Radience
Frozen Moments
Under Stars' Whispers