Somewhere in the silence of the cosmos, a faint pulse reverberates, whispering secrets of stars long extinguished. Each glimmer a memory, each pause a question left unanswered. Do you hear it too? The echo of forgotten worlds, the sigh of time unspooled.
As I gaze upon the void, my thoughts drift like stardust. I ponder the quiet resilience of the universe, its indifferent beauty a balm for aching hearts. In its vastness, I find a home, a sanctuary for dreams that refuse to wither.
The stars speak in tongues of light, their messages written in constellations half-remembered. I write back with thoughts unformed, tracing nebulous lines in the dark canvas of my mind. Can you decipher their meaning? Or is it just another story we tell ourselves?
In the distance, a glimmer—a sign, perhaps. Or maybe just a trick of the eye, a flash in the night. I reach for it, fingers brushing against the edge of eternity. It slips away, leaving only a trace, a whisper of what could have been.