The Riddle of the Inner Ring

Isn't it curious, the way whispers edge into dreams, tracing circles around the forgotten?

Echoes, many echoes, a dance around an unseen axis, incomplete and yet whole...

Am I thinking this, or is it thought flowing uninvited through the tangled doorways?

If time could loop, would it spiral outwards or inward? A question unanswered...

Touch the portal, they said. Feel the riddle, the rhythm, the pulse of hollow things.