Catching whispers of the past as the clock ticks unevenly. Footsteps echo in a land where silence prevails.
Journey through shadows: The wind telling tales of forgotten summer evenings.
The abandoned book opened to a page of blank words. Were they ever written on, or were they always waiting for someone else to compose their meaning?
A tile misplaced, once thought purposeless, curving beneath the journeying light. Strange rhythms of life intermingle.