A neon glow flickers as shadows murmur secrets lost among pixels. Was it last Tuesday when the machine spoke of rain? Blue shadows curl, breathe, shimmer—none see the truth but view the dance.
Listen...Across the static seas of digital haze, whispers weave between dimensions. A girl watches skies through glass, asking if tomorrow sings the song of yesterday's ghosts.
Watch...Somewhere a rusty machine whirls in sync with an unseen clock. The news murmurs of forgotten dreams, question marks lingering in night shadows, clinging to fading screens.
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