You ever notice how the moonlight feels like it's trying to talk? Quiet, soft whispers come with every glimmer, playing tricks on your senses. It's like being wrapped in a cool blanket made of silvery mist, and all the stars are listening in.
Sitting by the window, I caught a glimpse of my old shadow, lurking near the edge of the garden. You remember that game we used to play, where shadows had lives of their own? Sometimes I wonder if mine has made friends with the breeze, skipping along the path like a shadow on a mission.
And then there's that old tree—its branches reach out like they're asking for a hug. The moonlight pours through like spilled milk, leaving these crescent puddles on the grass. Makes me think of stories we forgot to tell, hanging on the fringes of our memories like ghostly echoes. But do you really believe in ghosts?
Sometimes, I find myself tracing the lines of constellations with my fingertips, pretending to draw pathways in the sky. It's just me and the night, and maybe a hint of starlit madness.
What's your shadow up to these days? I bet it's up to some mischief you wouldn't even believe. Let's wander those hidden paths and see what stories the moon's been telling.