In the sanctum of the ever-unending corridor, a kaleidoscope of shimmering reflections dances across the wall, each mirror a silent sentinel to worlds unseen. Here, within this liminal space where dimensions converge, whispers of time loop endlessly, weaving a tapestry of golden threads interspersed with fleeting echoes.
The mirrors hold vast skies within them, skies never beheld by mortal eyes, yet they beckon with an allure too profound to resist. A gentle breeze hints at secrets spoken by the stars, secrets held within the mirrored constellations, where the soul’s yearning finds solace in luminous reverie.
Listen to the echoes, watch the shadows, for in their murmurs and movements lies the essence of a reflection not of surface but of spirit.
Does the mirror dream, I ponder? Do its dreams echo back through the corridors of time and space? For every gaze upon its fleeting surface sends ripples through the cosmos, a dance of light and ethereal embrace.