There was a whisper from the depth; a tale forgotten amid the dying echoes of submerged canyons. It beckoned with sequined tones, each node illuminating the rhythmic heartbeat of a distant celestial shore. The driftwood letters, long divorced from their ink, swam amidst bubbles that sang hymns to aeons gone.
“Remember,” rasped the sonar ghosts through intercom chatter, shivering the kelp that bore secrets ruined by salt. Their chorale drifted upward, mixing with the plankton-lit waves, riveting lost verses in poetic disarray. Barnacle relics clung to ideas too ancient for invisible current-records.
Through fractured light, I trace the ancestry of voids: fluorescent fish like nadirs conflict with forgotten kodachrome narratives where silence hammocks itself within void and pulse.