A room forgotten.

This fleeting feeling—

"I've been here before," says the shadow.

But silence holds no answers.

Passage

Fragments whisper.

Voices fractal in mirrors.

The light bends, fleeting.

Was I not here then?

Return

A chair rocks slowly.

Hands trace lines in dust.

The ceiling sighs with echoes.

Endless

Time loops softly.

Everything as it was, yet never.

Softness matting—friends unrecognizable.

Cycle