"I swear the coffee machine talks back when it thinks I'm not listening. Ever since Janet left, it's just me and the coffee."
- Steve, 7:45 AM at the office kitchen.
"Did you hear the walls whisper last night? They sounded like they were singing in a language I almost understood."
- A conversation heard from room 204, somewhere in the old dormitory.
"Honestly, who would even think of counting the stars? I mean, they're not exactly in a mood for a census, are they?"
- Two children discussing their summer adventures under the oak tree.
"The void? It's not empty, you know. It's filled with echoes of things that never happened."
- Whispered words from a stranger's lips in the crowded subway.