Old desk, bruised with ink stains, sighs of forgotten letters. Its drawers, secrets buried beneath dust. Whispers of reckless dreams spill through cracks.
A broken clock, hands frozen, harbors time's quiet rebellion. Seconds tick in hidden corners, laughter at their master.
Closet doors creak open, revealing shadows clothed in forgotten moments. They stretch, breathe, and murmur untold truths.