The midnight transmission crackled through the air, whispering tales of forgotten summers. The echoes of laughter and plans unfulfilled danced on untouched sands.
A promised landscape, witnessed only through voices traveling over stardust. Who called there from the depths, and why was the answer lost?
In the corners of flickering thoughts, memories fade only to sometimes resurface, linger, and once more... disappear.
In a dim-lit attic, dust particles suspended in golden rays tell tales without words; the remnants of unsent letters, unsaid words that tangle in silence.
Histories tied with thread and ink sailing across borders of time, never unfolding, yet here they breathe; messages caught in the blip of a forgotten radar.
A recollection settles gently, much like a bird landing. You have questions but know not what they are or whom to ask…
