The Wobbling Hour

“In the garden of whispers, do you hear the clock chime?” she asked.

He glanced at the floating petals, each a mirror reflecting yesterday's glow.

The answer was an echo, perhaps from another life, or was it tomorrow?

“Don't be led astray by the shadow of the sun,” murmured a voice as ancient as the stars.

Did she believe it? Or was the question intended for someone unseen?

Time wobbles, not in a straight line, but in loops and threads woven through the backdrop of dreams.

Lost in the Cosmos
The Echo Chamber
Invisible City

“Do you ever wonder about the stars that never sleep?”

Their conversation was like a silent film, profound but filled with unspoken words.

“We walk these paths, beneath a sky that knows our names but chooses to forget,” he replied.

The breeze carried their voice, a melody out of tune yet harmonized with chaos.

The wobbling hour is neither here nor there, a moment stretching into infinity.