In the labyrinth of paper and ink, shadows of the clock dance. Melodies played in reverse, whispers forgotten in corridors. The light flickers, a beacon of the past, yearning to lead. Find the door in the office of dreams, where reality bends. The floors above hum with invisible rhythms, each echo a reminder of paths not taken. Listen closely, and the melody reveals itself— a song without beginning or end. Follow the whispers, where time flows like water through the fingers of yesterday. Hidden below the mundane, corridors of sound await. In this place, the notes are your compass, guiding you through the office of forgotten dreams. Embrace the flicker, and discover the hidden paths.