The sun dipped below the horizon, and reality blurred—a shadow whispered truths, forgotten by time. Decisions, once solid rocks, now slipstreams in the molten ground.
Oblivion is a strange companion. It speaks in echoes of yesterday, insistent, persistently gnawing at the edges of golden memories.
The old man at the crossroads told tales of travelers before. Each seeker a story, intertwining paths leading nowhere and everywhere. You can hear the flicker of their dreams, like distant smoke signals slowly fading out.
Amidst the stress and chaos of modernity, we tread carefully along these dilapidated paths, our eyes peeled for signposts no longer there.
[The ground felt different this time, didn't it? Sink deep or float away.]