Hello again, I found myself wandering through these empty halls tonight again. It's chilly, not really forecasted for the evening, but I suppose the night has its own agenda.
It's quiet here, though every now and then I think I hear footsteps—almost like my own, only they're a shade different. Perhaps it's just the acoustics, a playful trick of the shadows. Ever have that feeling?
I'm not hunting for anything in particular; sometimes just meandering is enough of a destination. I came across an old window, more like a portal to the night, and I swear I saw stars that don't exist in the sky, just out of reach, twinkling in a dance.
The walls, they seem to hold whispers of stories long untold. Rumor has it that if you listen hard enough, you might hear them too, echoing like ghosts in the lights.
What would you do if you found a path you didn't remember taking? Would you follow it? I sometimes wonder what would happen if one of these rambles led me somewhere unexpected, somewhere I’ve never been—or perhaps somewhere familiar, yet forgotten, almost like meeting an old friend for the first time.
Feel free to keep wandering down this road, or perhaps you prefer to follow the lights? Choices abound when you're just wandering...
Before I let you go, there's this intriguing thought: where do you suppose the echoes come from? I mean truly, not just the science of sound, but something deeper, something that resonates... with you?