?Decide a rustle in the evening mist... shadows of paths once cast in gold, the specter of choice sits quietly.

the telephone rings, a toll from yesterday... where will the waves find solace, a question buried in the tide. silence resolves into whispers.

Wait time, an amber vessel of decisions. echoes lost in the deep fold, driftwood carries forgotten echoes ashore.

suspended thoughts in the twilight... a lighthouse flickering memories, the labyrinth of what could have been.