Fractals in Time

Beneath layers of concrete and steel, the whispers of ancient roads murmur in forgotten tongues. Each street carved from the land a tale, each building a word in the city's ever-rewriting history.

These histories, erased not by choice but by the hands of progress, lie palimpsest-like beneath our feet. The ground, a book of stories untold, paragraphs of lives lived, erased and inked anew.

Somewhere in the shadows of time, a merchant pauses, glancing over wares that no longer exist, in markets that have vanished into the ether of what could have been.

In the digital haze above, records of these echoes persist—faint, barely tangible, yet there—fractals of memory in the algorithms of machines, mapping forgotten paths and erased lives.