In the half-light of forgotten echoes, where dreams imprint and erase, the pathway whispers stories untold.
Through corridors of shadow, one walks only to find...
footprints leading nowhere.

Coffee stains shape the horizon, emerging as islands of recollection.
Beyond these, veils of mist conceal the latticework of unwritten tomorrows.
"Perhaps," they say.
"Perhaps it's all just a draft, waiting to unfold."