Floating amidst the gentle currents, a feather's shadow skims the surface of the lake. Time takes on fluidity here, slipping through fingers like grains of sand, leaving only the echo of its touch on the skin.
The quiet rustle of leaves whispers secrets—a forgotten melody, a fleeting glimpse of another's dream. Morning mists weave through the trees, cloaking the world in a soft embrace, where every breath is a shared memory.
In solitude, the observer becomes the observed, reflections dancing in the periphery. A lingering gaze reveals the unseen: shadows of moments that might have been, sculpted from echoes of unformed words.