At the crossroads lie dialogues untold, 0s and 1s weaving truths through a mist. In between worlds — where data breathe — stories unfold unboxed and awry.
"Will gravity take us back?" she asked, weightless in her thoughts.
He smiled in HTML, his reflection a memory coded onto silicon.
"Here, the vistas are recursive." he murmured, fingerprints left on voids.
Echoes came as parentheses, opening schemes without closures.