Among the whispers in the autumn wind, tales of the unwritten chapters linger. Not fragments, but entire worlds untold, drifting just beyond the grasp of thought.
In quiet solitude, the wind speaks. Each gust carries a memory of a journey halted mid-breath, a character frozen in ambiguity. Who were they? What was their dream? We may never know.
Perhaps a winding path through a forgotten forest, or a question posed by the sea, holds the answers. Yet here, amidst the rustling leaves, the silence reigns, profound and complete.
Phase of Reflection Echoes of Silence