"In what space do whispers linger when gravity pulls them not? Notice how the shadow speaks before it is seen," she said, her voice like the final note of a symphony.

"I dance between the fragments and the void, where light meets nothingness. There, I am free, a specter in my own headspace," he replied, eyes closed against the light that had no source.

"Can you feel the echo of your words as they leap beyond the horizon of comprehension?" the question floated, unanchored, drifting languidly like a forgotten tune.