Whispering shadows linger upon the edges of forgotten frames, whispering tales of bygone whispers. Each photograph a breath caught in the moment, exhaling silence to the restless rhythm of existence.
A view lost amidst the echoes, captured in an instant, yet enduringly trapped in a dream.
Through the mist, a clock ticks backwards, unraveling the threads of a tapestry woven in starlight. Voices echo through the ether: "Have you ever held a second in your palm, feeling its pulse fade?"
Entropy begets narratives of decay; a rusted carousel spins silently, its stories etched in dust. Children’s laughter haunts the air, but the wind only remembers, never returning the smiles.