In the hallowed halls of Netherwood, where silken shadows dance in the luminescent glow of otherworldly moons, whispers of garden blossoms spill secrets that flutter like butterflies against the ethereal dusk.
The clock ticks. Hertz oscillate invisibly through the mundane office walls, where memos accumulate in subconscious drudgery. Amongst the endless hum, a lone digital device chirps, marking the passage of another hour ticked off in a forgotten ledger.
As dusk begets night, crystalline stars cascade into the widening firmament, cradling dreams within their celestial arms. Those dreams, laden with the fragrance of dew-drenched leaves, arc across the sky like painted sirens calling loyal hearts home.
Pager notifications break the hypnotic cadence. Myriad tasks stacked upon the desk—each a fragment of untold stories, locked within their manila cages, waiting for unremembered voices to release their tangled meanings.