In the interstice of dusk and dawn, a whisper descends upon the parchment. Words dissolve like sugar in rain.
"I saw you by the glass," she murmured, her voice a shadow lingering in the folds of time.
Fragments of forgotten symphonies play softly, an orchestra of the stranded notes caught behind phantasmal mirrors.
The shelves groan under gravity's spectral touch, books unwritten and unwritten dreams echoing, "Not yet, not yet..."
Step beyond | Seek the soundlessness