Aetheric Scribbles

The realm between realms, where air thickens with forgotten tales and every breath carries the memory of morning dew.

Here, time curls like a cat around its paw, seeking warmth rather than truth. Words drift kingfisher-blue past your thoughts, leaving only afterimages of moments never held but vividly spun.

Glow of the open door, Glpeek blues in whisper arcs...
Travel Back
Glistening chimes above, Adrift in cloud of forget-me-not...
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