The early light painted the alien sands a color not seen on Earth, somewhere between the quiet whisper of dawn blue and the promise of warmth in pale orange. Footsteps echoed in a rhythm unknown, a heartbeat against an untouched shore.
I knelt, tracing fingers through the grains—each a world unto itself. Memories clung to the fibers of the landscape, like the echoes of songs never sung. Here, time was a curious thing, stretching and folding in ways that defied reason.
An unearthly breeze carried whispers, secrets told by the stars long after they were buried in the horizon. I listened, though I couldn’t understand, my heart syncing to the cadence of this foreign place.
Reaching the edge of a small rise, I paused to watch the sun’s tentative ascent, a shivering glow spilling over the edge of a waking world. Could one own such a moment? I left footprints that would fade with the day, mere shadows of presence.