To the Chrome Forest
The trees creaked with a metallic sheen — leaves twisting in the borrowed light of forgotten time. Gilt whispers of cyphers descended with each rustling breeze, carving ancient trajectories in the youthful air. Somewhere between then and never, someone left a silver footprint, steaming like new art in curious sands.
“I once followed trails only seen by nascent stars,” began a weary voice, their silhouette blurred at its edges by unraveling timelines. “In the Chrome Forest, the distortion eases the longing to stand on both sides of an hour. A shroud of moments thinly enfolds my galaxy thoughts, conspiring to rewrite the prelude of celestial backtracks.”
Here, past and prospective collide beneath the neon shadows cast by retro future bridges. Mile-stones mark epochs more human than the eyes could ever conjure. Touch one and feel the hum of a thousand vows brought to fruition, echoing promises that embolden existence.