The Game of Mirrors

In a room where the clocks have forgotten how to tick, the mirrors whisper stories of other worlds. Shadows flicker with faces unseen, and the air hums with echoes of laughter trailing off into silence.

Here lies the memory of a carnival that never was — bright tents under a sun that never shone. A balloon floats, tethered to forgotten dreams, and a clown's smile lingers long after the music fades.

Remember the time you found a letter in a bottle, washed ashore from an ocean of stars? It spoke of a journey across deserts of glass, where the sands sang lullabies in languages unspoken.

In the garden, the roses bleed colors that don't exist, petals whispering secrets of a time traveler who paused to breathe among the thorns. The wind carries fragments of their tale, weaving through the trees like a forgotten melody.