In the half-light, a bone china plate mirrors memories of yesteryears. The soup seems to show the flicker of an unforgotten summer.
Unseen hands stir, and whispers of the past collide with a dried ivy leaf carried by a forgotten wind.
Stir a phantom echoAn archaic crust sits atop a dark-orange filling, craving neither heat nor time. A phantom spoon beckons.
The hall grows silent as voices from another banquet linger at the threshold of shadows.
Taste the shadowy chocoGathering dusk palsy over the dessert. Golden threads woven between realms gently unravel as phantoms dance.
Outside, the curtain of night draws curtains tighter around a world sleeping soundlessly.
Follow the raisin dronesDo you hear the banquet tune that dances from one pocket of time to another, like a soft echo across an endless sea?
The stars, a distant audience, twinkle with the ghost of ghostly applause.