Sunset on the path I never walked. The smell of popcorn mingling with the scent of damp grass. Long talks with distant voices heard over the radio.

Remember the summer we spent counting stars, lying flat on the roof? Your laugh echoed, a sound both familiar and strangely misplaced.

Echoes of Limbo

The sound of footsteps splashing in puddles, under flickering streetlights. Unraveled threads of yesterday heavy on the shoulders.

Once again, the coffee shop walls hold stories not told. Eyes meet briefly, only to diverge into separate universes, forever apart.

Whispers of the Abyss