Inside each room lies a different popular solitude, and as you gently tread the corridors, are they watching or merely reflecting? Quiet moments whisper snippets of stories you never quite grasp completely.
- The clock on the wall ticks backward, yet the parade outside moves forward... until you turn.
- An empty chair, warm to the touch, speaks in foreign echoes from a nearby planet.
- The plants by the window seem engaged in dance routines that make them glow fiercely as the rain falls.
As you reach through the invisible veil separating sense from nonsense, familiar faces meet yours through jarring recolection; feet firmly planted on ground unbroken by storms.