Ever noticed how the whispers of the past seem to linger around doorways, even when you're a thousand light-years away from home? I was wandering through a narrow alley in the middle of March, just past the old clock tower. The kind of place where shadows mingle and dance like they know something you don't.
Someone once told me that alleys like this are lined with portals. Not the flashy, sci-fi kind, but those that slightly open when you hum the right melody. Ever tried singing in one? The echoes converge, creating a symphony of things best left unnamed.
Sometimes, while sipping a cup of something suspiciously herbal, I ponder about the whispering voids we've yet to discover. Each echo a note in a cosmic melody. Each step an invitation to a dance with the unseen.
There's a saying, "Step through every doorway as if it's a portal to a universe unseen." Now, if only someone could explain why my socks always disappear when I do laundry with that mindset.
So, here you are, standing in the middle of an adventure. Or perhaps, a side quest. Who knows what echoes await your next decision? Maybe they're hums, maybe they're whispers, or maybe they're just the universe's way of laughing.