The moon hums softly, cradling the sky in nocturnal embrace. Here, dreams unravel like silk threads in the velvet dark.
Listen closely, and you may hear the echoes of forgotten laughter, dancing through the branches of the old willow tree.
An antique radio murmurs tales of a world once known—a world where street lamps flickered like fireflies, guiding souls home.
Every shadow whispers your name, weaving a tapestry of memories that blur the lines between reality and reverie.