She walked the narrow streets, carrying echoes
Of laughter caught in the stitches of time's fabric.
Was it you, _were_ it me, who wove this intent inour journeys?
Beneath the arching willow, another glimpse awaited.
The world recoils and murmurs softly as the hum of tomorrow fades,
leaving only whispers in the twilight air.
Click here to step back into horizon: Mirage of Past
Discover more folds: Echo Theater