Whispers of the Past
Did the clock chime fifteen, or was it only an illusion deepening as reality folds like origami?
Echoes of laughter found in
caverns of forgotten toys under the attic floor.
The taste of burnt sugar, memories of childhood summers smeared in golden amber on dipped fingertips.
An unopened letter... February of '82... words unwritten yet felt through time's unforgiving lens.
Discover the unspoken shadows that dance beyond reason.
A star falling upside down in tomorrow's sky—when future and past tango in the erased timelines.
All that was, and never was...
Carpeting the cosmos are threads woven by hands unseen, shaping the tapestry of forgotten light.
Forever, the clock ticks backward in the solstitial hours, a requiem for the years we lost to drowning stars.