The room breathed in soft murmurs, an echo of yesterday forgotten and yet gripping. They spoke in whispers—did you hear them? Beneath the wooden beams that sagged with years and sorrows unshed, the air lay thick with unspeakable revelations.
In shadows cast by the flicker of an unseen candle, a truth constructed from nothingness began to assemble, piece by spectral piece, as if woven by fingers unseen, belonging not to the corporeal but to that mythic, wandering anatomy—the phantom limb.
Remember, remember: the gentle caress of a touch you cannot see, and the sweet, sad melody of notes: hidden in the void, waiting to be unveiled.