Each step I take sinks softly into the powdery expanse, the grains whisper tales of lands unheard, of nights woven with moonlight and dreams. They say sand remembers; I wonder if it remembers me.
The horizon stretches infinitely, a line drawn in the dust of countless stars. The air is still, a silent witness to the footprints that dance in pairs, one for me, one for tomorrow.
As I walk, the alien sand shimmers under an unseen sun, reflecting a warmth that is not of heat, but of memory. Each footprint is a question mark, a pause in the rhythm of the universe.