"Do you remember the fairground at twilight?" she asked, her voice like a ripple in the stillness of the fog.
An answer lingered, yet it evaded capture, slipped between the fingers of time.
Shadows danced on the periphery, hinting at stories untold, moving with a rhythm known only to the night.
Paths unseen awaited discovery, winding through veils of yesteryears.
"The moon is our only witness," he murmured, gazing into the abyss of her reflection, deep as oceanic mysteries.
A single tear dropped, illuminating the shadows briefly like a comet's tail across a starless sky.