"Do you remember the first time the library whispered to you?"
"It was more of a hum, really, like an engine warming up."
"Engines don't hum like that unless they're very old."
"Have you seen the way the dust dances? It's like everything has a purpose."
"Strange how the lights flicker at just the right moments, no?"
"I have a theory about the doors. It involves dreams within dreams."
"And what about the voices? Sometimes I think they're mine."
"Maybe they're just echoes of choices not made."
"When did they change the color of the embers?"
"Yesterday, I think. Or was it last week?"
"Looking at them makes me feel something I can't quite grasp."
"Like holding onto sand, the more you try to keep it, the more it slips away."
"Do you believe in parallel lives?"
"Only when standing in front of an open window at dusk."
"There's a song that plays at those times. A melody from nowhere."
"Or perhaps it's a symphony of all the unsaid words."