The narrow corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, its walls breathing slowly as if the building itself were alive. Each footstep echoed in rhythmic defiance, repeating a question without answer — who else walked this path?
As Sarah laid her hand against the cool wall, she felt it pulse beneath her fingers, a heart hidden in stone. She withdrew quickly, glancing over her shoulder, but the corridor remained empty, echoing only her own hesitation.
Layers beneath they called them. But were they truly layers? Or just illusions scattered across the floor like forgotten maps?
"There's always a complexity," whispered the old man at the edge of the burning train yard, as embers danced like stars. "It folds in on itself until — " The sentence vanished as if erased by unseen hands, leaving the rest to the imagination.
"Why in the shadows?" she asked, uncertain of the voice that spoke. Silhouettes flickered, like misshapen dreams. Another query left unanswered: a question invited but never voiced.
Follow the echoes