Did you hear the story about the time people talked about paths never taken but sort of brushed aside? It was beneath the mountain of mundane chatter, yet somehow it hummed in its own peculiar tune. Echoes of what-could-be, making friends with mirror-page whispers. Usual stuff, really, cemented in yesterday's coffee-weary diaries.
Tucked among the letters of conversations suspended in air, there's a palimpsest here, an echo there — like lingering notes in an abandoned hallway. Who erased these tales, and why? Honestly, it might have been Tuesday, and rain spoiled lots of good intentions with erased histories tugging at one’s sleeve.
Curious? Enter the pastish:
(You deciphered an unreadable yesterday but don't remember how, right? Nudge the pages inside your answer, maybe.)