In the recesses of thought, a timeless hallway stretches before you. The walls, etched with long-forgotten scripts, hum softly as if singing to the greying echoes of existence. Each step you take reverberates into the endless vaults of memory, where the stories of yesterday dance in hesitant recreation.
The air is tangible, heavy with the smell of chalk dust and aged wood. Spectral light leaks through cracks in ornate doors lining either side, casting luminescent wefts upon the marble flooring. Every doorway stains you with wonder, whispering promises of the worlds that lie just beyond.