Dissonance

The room is filled with silence. Yet, the whispers never cease, echoing off the walls of memories long past:

"It never quite stops, does it? Like a radio tuned just off the frequency, we seek the sound but find only static."

Outside, the world moves on. Cars drive by, people laugh, voices mix into a symphony of everyday life. But here, in this room, the whispers linger.

"There's a comfort in the discomfort, I suppose. A rhythm, a beat that we learn to dance to, step by careful step."

The clock ticks, and with each tick, a memory resurfaces. A face, a place, a whisper.

"Time doesn't heal. It just distracts us until the next whisper reminds us of what was lost, or perhaps never found."

And so it goes, a cycle of thoughts looping endlessly, a record scratched but somehow still playing. You can choose to pause, to reflect, or to continue wandering through these echoes.

Explore Silence | Fractions of Time