“The clock no longer ticks, yet time lingers like smoke between words,” her voice was an echo on the shoreline. discover.
“If the owl could speak, what stories would wrap around the branches like winter shawls?” asked the shadow by the gate, draped in dusk. ponder.
“There’s a crack in the sky where stars slip through and the moon giggles like a child chasing fireflies,” he murmured, lost in rhythm. wander.