Once, in the dim corridors of my mind, I wandered in search of something intangible—a memory lost to time and dreams. The compass pointed, or perhaps it did not, but I followed its invisible guidance.
North led me to the echo of a child's laughter, untouched by the bitterness of adulthood. East revealed a horizon of stars, whispering forgotten wishes. South unveiled a desert of solitude, where each grain of sand bore the weight of untold stories. West cast shadows that danced on the walls of yesterday, alive and fleeting.
Yet, the compass spins still, its needle uncertain. I stand before it, a traveler in a land of dreams, where the remnants of forgotten tales linger in the twilight haze.