The fog rolled in like a familiar stranger, whispering secrets only the darkness could keep.
Her breath caught in the dew-laden air, the edges of her reality hung like misty fringes on the seams of sanity.
Colors bled where outlines blurred—life as a series of whispered thoughts turned silhouettes cast by invisible light.
Do you hear them? The voices trailing behind ancient cobblestones, clockworks ticking in reverse,
marking moments unmade in the corridors of yesterday's dreams? Shadows flicker, dance,
narrating stories with no beginning or end, only the act of presence itself: a stage for the unseen.