Text whispered by shadows, in corridors, hardly brushed by light. Observations gently slide down the silent hills cliff. Oh! Did you hear the shimmer between the actions? It spoke volumes, it breathed when you turned your head.

perilous elegance in her damn walk. Framed up like a masterpiece, yet, a hollowness behind the eyes as she passes... That signature smile, carved from mystery itself... the orchestra of her fate spirals in beyond the painted glass.

'Watch closely now...' his fingers formed dialogues that no language could capture. Across the flicker of projected images, emotions danced on threads of silence, unraveling slowly, steadily, in a most bewitching trance.

revival through echoes, each curve a haunting note in a symphony we ourselves have never heard but long to recreate with trembling, calloused hands.

Would stepping forth... sit in the quiet before revelation?