In the quiet glimmer of a child's laughter, there hides a universe untold. A place woven from dreams, and echoes of stars that fell too silent.
A shadow, uninvited, seeks solace in the corners of light, turning whispers to thunder. Is the shadow alive, or merely a figment of the poor light's haunting?
Do you see? The colors dance as if the world held its breath. In this fleeting moment, the child becomes both wanderer and sage, sinking into the twilight.
Tick, tick, tick goes the clock, maybe its face will one day crack to let us in. Or maybe time is just the echo of what never was, slipping into the womb of forgetfulness.