In the smoke-charred halls of 2217, the question beneath interstellar haze remains unspoken; where loci of past echoes intermingle? Shepherds tending to this cosmic pasture reminds me of an August 14th eve in 2041, velvet sky stargaze renowned for its silence, asylum for the forgotten titans.

Reverberate stories slip through the gaps—pillion riders of yesteryears elaborate tales never completed about the civil discord in what is now the Western Astronomy Cluster. An archive turned artifact during one unanticipated blink.

Tracing liquid droplets of rain across visions of antiquity cascading from a Berlin rooftop recalls the synergetic hum of the Vespa engine in revelatory 2188 Rome. When timeless bringing freshness to sodden cobbles alive once more reconstructing a present lodged within time’s cerebellum.