It feels like yesterday, doesn't it? Or maybe it was before the rain began—washing away the footprints of those who walked this path before us. Conversations overheard, snippets of lives spilling over like unguarded secrets.
"Have you seen the way the stars bend?" someone mused, casting shadows with their hands. Or was it a question about the maps we never look at?
Paths within paths, leading to forks that decide the fate of wandering souls. Left or right, who decides? Perhaps the breeze carries whispers of ancient decisions made by others.
Somewhere around here, there's a hidden truth about the meaning of time. Or maybe it's just a good place to pause, breathe, and forget about the clocks.