"Did you notice the clouds were speaking?" he asked, pointing upwards.
"But it's a mirror," she replied, "I see versions of us everywhere."
"When was the last time you chased a shadow?"
"We are just pixels in someone else's screen," he murmured, fading away.
"Reality bends around corners, just out of sight," she smiled, stepping through a doorway.
"Can colors exist without eyes to see them?" he pondered aloud, tracing the edge of a rainbow."
"Perhaps we are the echoes, a forgotten song in an ancient library," he dreamed.
"Are we the authors of our own script, or are we merely performing?"