Within the folds of reality, whispers of the forgotten weave between the seams, reaching hands across the expanse. Have you felt the chill of yesterday's breath upon your waking face, a reminder that moments drift in parallel?
Listen closely, and perhaps you will decode the echoes that remain. They linger not in words, but in the spaces between. Time is a loop, twisted, unwound, and rewound, where the past and present dance in an eternal embrace.