In the muted glow of twilight, the pathway unfurls like pages from an ancient tome, its words etched in the dust of untold stories. Frayed edges of a life once lived linger as shadows passing through the whistling trees, ripples on the surface of time, casting their veils upon the soul and heart alike.
Dappled sunlight pierces through dismantling foliage, illuminating fragments of a ghost town where remnants of gossamer fog stitch together transient impressions—a child's forgotten toys lie scattered, encased in the amber of untarnished dreams, silent sentinels of summer’s fleeting embrace. These rusted toys whisper secrets of passion, whispers brushed aside by the storm. Yet, the echoes pursue, chasing against crumbling walls.
Mountains loom over Chaucer's melancholy autumn edge, a brittle horizon that cradles echoed laughter in hiding, where boughs waver, trees speak another music. Voices glide downhill, down hollows unanswered questions plague tired heartbeats, another footfall dies quietly unheard.
Side Streets Awaiting | Forgotten Reasonings | Chasing Shadows