You won't believe the things that glow when darkness curls around your thoughts. Stories that wind away, letting time eddy like forgotten echoes of adventures half-had—and time in the pause breaks, everything pulses and starts to sync.
Here the details of small existence glitter in vibrations of data: someone's forgotten list is etched overhead, life racked into code beneath casual chaos. Like, I told Mira—no need to save it but, well, logic demurred.
Epics hidden in electronic synapses, experiences clipped where abrupt shifts breathe. Bubbles in the binary shiver those tiny equivalences where even serendipity seems organized.