The relics of water's dance upon forgotten cobblestones, whispering of rainstorms that once sang the songs of ages untold. Such vigor!
Time folded as we splashed through the echoes of history, unearthing tales older than our skin, deeper than joy's first breath.
The puddles hold the laughter of a thousand yesterdays, mirrored in their crystalline depths—yet there's a melancholic pull, a silent yearning for what could have been.
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