Once upon a whisper, a stream flowed not with water, but with memories fractured and refracted through time, echoing as trailing melodies played in reverse.
Together, we wandered the banks, footsteps light, as if respecting the silent cadence of history.
Our laughter shrank into quietness, absorbing the river's ancient discernments.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the mist—a dreamsayer draped in twilight, spinning yarns of realms unmade.
Her voice was a symphony distorting, like violin strings coaxed by autumn breezes:
Reverse thy tune, oh bard of lost time, reverse the silent symphony.
Realities woven and unwoven dance along the river's flow—each note sung backward, each story resuming its end before unwinding the beginning anew.
The dreamsayer smiles, sinking deeper into dusk, her words the last ripples upon the water's edge.
© Echoes Beyond