I wander the corridors of silence, where echoes breathe and shadows linger. Each step reverberates in the void, a reminder of the presence I cannot see, yet know to be there, following, or perhaps just waiting.
Amidst the stillness, I hear whispers, not of words but of intention, delicate tendrils reaching out, searching for warmth, connection... I stop for a moment, allowing them to wrap around me, embracing the chill, the comfort of the cold. In this embrace, I find myself adrift, floating amidst memories unmade, stories untold.
I am a traveler, without a map, guided only by the stars hidden in the depths of the firmament above. Do I walk toward something, or am I merely moving, swept away by currents unseen? The thought comforts me; I am part of a greater tapestry, woven together by hands unseen.
Echo...echo..., a sound ricochets against the walls of my consciousness and is swallowed by the quiet. I pretend to chase it, knowing it leads me away only to return. This game of pursuit and retreat, it is a dance choreographed by fate.