Peripheral Thoughts

It occurred to me that the edges of my vision often carry whispers of things that never were, like
the scent of a place you've never visited, lingering in the corners of memories yet to form.

Sometimes, when I walk past the old bookstore, I wonder what stories have been lost within its
dusty shelves, tales unfinished, like

In the quiet hours before dawn, I found myself contemplating the colors of a world unseen, painted
by the dreams of those who dare to