The symphony of lost echoes swims through corridors painted in yesterday's dreams; a soft murmur of violet whispers...
Amidst the once-bright carousel, a tune of rusted brass mingles with odysseys across forgotten seas. The lilac scent of your grandmother's attic winds through the city like a dusty melody, combining the harmony of stringed silences.
The clock on the wall, ticking in reverse, tells stories of rain-soaked mornings where rhythm and chaos embrace in jittery cadence. Were you there, beneath the sprawling oak, listening to tales of suns long hidden in twilight’s embrace?
"When the telephone rang, it hummed a song only we could hear," whispered the echo of a distant past, where sounds became visions, and visions, kaleidoscopes of forgotten lives.
Wander further into the murmur...