Embroidered shadows in the attic of yesterday's dreams, where whispers of a carnival song linger.
Does the echo of orange peels taste differently in February?
Find the unseen cluesElephants dance around lampshades in worlds where children dream of adult responsibilities.
Dialogue snippets from a forgotten lunacy, etched into the back of an old postcard.
It was always raining inside a memory.
Visit the cryptic horizons