I once knew the scent of rain against earth, a rhythm echoing in the corridors of my mind. Now, they are but fragments, fading like whispers in the wind. The whispers persist.
Boxes stacked upon boxes, all full, all empty. The labels peel off, one by one, revealing nothingness beneath. Each box a universe forgotten and unloved.
"Do you remember the lanterns?" she asked. The glow flickered like hope unfulfilled. I nodded, but the path remained dark, obscured by shadows. Remember the lanterns, indeed.
Once, there was laughter here, a sound so vibrant it could chase away the night. Now, only the echo of its absence remains, a mournful serenade to solitude.