Longitude: Our Lonely Companion

Remember, when we were not so distant? Shared dreams across invisible lines? Distances felt trivial as long as conversation flowed like melodies bridging across longitudes.

"Somewhere out there," you used to say, pointing at crumpled maps, stretched across your sunburned knees. And now, sentiments move with knitting skeins of memory where time folds like ancient, yellowing atlas pages.

Loneliness threads.

Does distance grow with contemplation, or does the mind forge imaginary borders?

Perhaps we wrote our stories in the lines of unfolding roads. The codes deciphered by unpredictable weather and timeworn clocks. The roads creased into pirouettes of yearning and hesitation. How, without ceremony, we stepped onto separate itineraries, unlocking solitude floppy like untied strings. Cautious like pages in a forgotten adventurer's journal.

Nearly chimes at the thought, aren't we? Still spellbound by promises, retracing those signs of loyalty.

Continue along the path Memories of Forgotten Places