"Are you there," whispers the star, its voice a flicker of ancient light, dancing across the velvet void, threading threads through the tapestry of time.
Within the cradle of cosmos, a melody of silence hums, woven with the echoes of every black hole's sigh, each quasar's scream, a paradox twisting yet coherent, yet chaos.
"What is your query," the ethereal nebula responds, colors shifting like the thoughts of a dreaming giant. Perhaps, perhaps not, the question remains vibrating in strings unplucked.
Entangled whispers of galaxies unseen, a dialogue in Schrödinger's box, where questions live and die in superposition.
"And the answer," ponders the comet, a bright slash across the timeline, "is in the silence between our words."
Explore more interstellar reflections at Starborne Thoughts or Void Conundrum.