Wisp of Dream

Somewhere in the fabric of night, a fleeting thought catches itself in a tender web, yet only whispers remain. Shadows shift between reality and the unspoken. Do you hear it? The echo of a dream unraveling in the dawn's pale light? It touches you softly, with echoes of distant untraveled roads and unfamiliar voices.

Moments where you almost, but did not dare, imagine reaching into the stars. Beyond the horizon there lies a garden of memories untended; capture one if you can, just before it fades.

The old clock ticks in time with this rhythm, its hands moving the same way they always do, but not quite moving your heart with them — or so it seems. Look closely, and you might see the shimmer of a creature dancing among the lights here.