“Did you ever wonder, while tracing the constellations in the attic dust, if time was merely a whisper echoing through the cosmos?”
They say every journey begins with a single step, whispered the old tree beside the river bank. But what they don’t tell you is that some journeys weave through echoes of forgotten dreams.
“Listen closely,” said the wind. “For the echoes sing of paths not taken, and dreams that danced in shadows.”
Here in the stillness, where the moonlight spills like silver upon the sea, I find fragments of conversations etched in the air:
The echoes are relentless, yet gentle. They cradle the journey, a delicate melody that resonates in the soul's quiet corners.
“Do you feel it, the pulse of the universe?” the stars seemed to question, twinkling in their ancient dance.
In this journey of echoes, I find solace, a sanctuary within the whispers of time.