Where the shadows converge, a phantom's whisper grazes the edge of perception. The air trembles with echoes of once-touched dreams.
Step lightly on the moonlit junction, where forgotten limbs remember the dance of the winds. You are never alone, yet the company is beyond grasp.
Listen closely, the silence speaks in riddles. Each pause is a doorway unto itself, a journey unweaved but deeply known.
Embrace the touch of the unseen, for every sigh is a note in the melody of absence, every shadow a brushstroke in the painting of light.