Have you ever paused in a moment, only to feel the space around you expand like an unfurling ghost? The toaster, beckoning quietly... toasts forgotten? Go get milk, but the mind trails further into void. What remains in the fridge of memory?
The sun spills anxiety on the pavement— a paper crane lost to the wind. If only I could wrap silence in a bow. Someday we'll retrieve, sipping nostalgia through coffee straws, teasing the fabric of choices lived.
Some days are echoes bouncing off devoid walls, begging curious hearts to simply listen. Keep chasing shadows, they might lead you somewhere unexpected.