A thought drifts like an errant star, flickering, lost in the quantum sprawl. Here lies the echo, the imprint of all that might have been, resonating with the breath of galaxies unheard.
Silent alchemy turns light into shadow, clockwork spirits spinning through voids, unraveling moments from an intangibility. It is in the absence you find the most profound presence.
Within the echo, a dream: a continuum of echoes whisper your name, but is it now, or the memory of tomorrow?
mirror reveriesFrom the stretches of quietude, listen closely, and the elusive resonance shall unveil its face— not one face, but many, whispering tales of silence seeping into the echoes.