"Do you hear it?" she asked, tilting her head as if to listen more closely.
"Hear what?" he replied, gravity-defying curls bouncing with the rhythm of her words.
"The song of the stars. It sings, you know, when the universe is quiet enough."
He laughed, a sound that seemed to bounce off invisible walls, "Stars can't sing, they can only burn."
Sidebar of reality bending like a broken compass needle.
"And yet," she continued, "here we are, in this echo chamber, dancing to the silent symphony."
The air thickened with unspoken thoughts, each one a note in this cosmic orchestra.
"Sometimes, I think we're just ghosts, wandering through the reindexes of our memories."
"Ghosts can't remember," he whispered, fading slightly as the words left his lips.
She touched her fingertips to the void, leaving trails of stardust in their wake.