"What was that? The tune, echoing off the walls of my memory. I started humming it in '78, or was it '79? Time has a way of swirling around like smoke in the early morning light. Listen closer, and you might catch a glimpse of it."
"Sometimes, I think I hear them talk, the voices reaching out through the curtain of years. Conversations left unfinished. Is it too late to ask for clarification on the theory?"
"Oh, I remember that day under the tree, its leaves whispering secrets. We charted the stars then, didn’t we? I still have those sketches, faded but alive in their own way. Maybe next time, we gather at the old oak."
"Drifting, drifting on currents unseen, the fragments of our dialogues float. We theorized, hypothesized... perhaps it was all just a ruse of time itself, a clever dance to keep us guessing."
"Did you ever check the old well? The one with the stories written on its stones. People have forgotten about it, but not us. Those words open doors to... possibilities."
If you're curious about the well and its hidden tales, you might find it here: The Whispering Well.
For more on the magical tapestry of time, consider this obscure route: Hidden Corners.