I linger in spaces undefined, a whisper in corridors painted with memories, tracing the lines where silence grows thick like moss. The wax figures, ever so patient, twist dreams into shadows. I am neither here nor there, caught in the fold of an unspoken story.
Echoes of a Forgotten Foxtrot
Watercolor Dreamscape
Somber Harmonies
Beneath the curtain, they say, lies a path drawn in the dust of the past. Each step a note in a silent symphony, an unwritten elegy for the curious.