Echoes of Time

TITLE: "Whispers of the Gloaming"
FADE IN. The stage is bare but for a solitary chair. A light flickers.
NARRATOR (V.O.):
"In the silent dusk where echoes reside, wandering souls chase shadows."

A soft piano melody weaves through the emptiness. Shadows dance.
FAUCET DRIPS, regular, relentless. A metronome marking the passage of something elusive.
WOMAN enters, commands the space. She moves as though swimming through the air.
"They told me silence was a friend," she whispers, looking away.

Close-up: A tear, singular, defies gravity. TIME suspends.
The screen shudders—a CRACK forms. The world beyond bleeds light.
FADE OUT.

TITLE CARD: "And so, the echo calls them home."

Time moves like a lazy river, twisting, veering, a whispering current.
Shadows of yesteryears, mirroring faces not yet forgotten, but never remembered.
The clock ticks in rhythm to a heartbeat no longer felt – oh, tick, tock, tick.
Was it a dream or the murmur of a waking world?