Under the neon glow of an eternal dusk, the merchants gather. Not with wares of silver or silk, but with the quiet currency of contemplations. Long they stand, these ancient purveyors of ideas, in the marketplaces of mind, where shadows barter with light.
Questions rise like vapor from the cobblestones, and the answers are but echoes of a distant melody. Here, amidst the thrumming heart of the intangible, one learns to ponder not what is gained, but what is pondered.
Among these stalls of introspection, a seen-unseen veil separates merchant from wanderer, each whispering in turn their hidden truths. And thus, the exchange continues, an endless cycle of thought and reflection, augmented by the hum of the universe’s quietly abiding song.