Listen closely, the rain murmurs like the soft lapping of shadows against cobblestone paths. In each falling droplet, a dream is rippling, faint as the sigh of an old suitcase in a forgotten train station.
The city breathes, as the liquid silver weaves its patterns, concealing faces that reflect truth in puddles below. Do you see them? Echoes of laughter swirl beneath the surface.
A solitary figure passes, their umbrella awash with the palette of gray skies. They drift like a cloud across avenues lost in time, summoned by the scent of damp earth.
What stories do the raindrops cradle upon their journey down street poles and window panes? Perhaps they are carriers of ancient promises spoiled by climate change and modern haste.
Let them guide you—tread lightly through the veil of mist. You are not merely a traveler in this realm, but a collector of fleeting moments.
Memories in Water Whispers of the Street Flowing Dreams