Inside the hollow of a shell, beneath the echoes of forgotten waves, lies a difference so subtle the ocean's breeze almost forgets it. A whisper of what was once imagined, sheltering a world not yet born.
Time unravels within these confines, stretching and compressing memory like a tide, pulling away from shores of consciousness. In these moments, feelings become gravity wells—pulling at the fabric of thought, warping the known into unreal.
Do we lose ourselves in these differences? Or do we find more of ourselves than we ever knew possible? Each transformation, each echo, a reminder of the complexity nestled within simplicity—a paradox that spins endlessly like a forgotten carousel in a desolate fairground.