There it lay on the table, a slip of paper, yellowed with age, bearing the trace of thoughts lost to memory. Names, places, phrases scrawled with urgency now faded. Did I forget it, or did it leave me?
The garden outside was relentlessly green, the kind of lush that soaks into the fabric of your mind, filling the empty corners with a vivid hue. Why did I never take that walk? bird embroidered paths perhaps lead to another world.
Encased in a glass jar on my desk, a plume of lavender, it's scent flying across time into soft memories of a summer long passed. Echoes of laughter floated through the open window; whispers of familiar voices fading into a half-remembered tune.
Do you remember the stories we weaved beneath the star-studded sky? I'd speak of strangers, of journeys untaken—echoes trembling on the edge like ripples on still water. Explore the faded legends or let us circle once more.