Beneath the surface, images flicker: old playgrounds under neon skies, swinging backs break against the pixelated horizon. Voices merge, constructing a symphony of memories slightly out of reach.
Remember the times when laughter was digital, crisp yet distorted? There, six steps deep in ones and zeroes, in the forgotten bytes, echoes lay woven, hidden until you dare speak them loud, always just a doppel apart from realization.
Further into the glitch