Time flows like rivers flow over stones, shaping their form, yet never saturating them fully with meaning.
In the quiet town of Eldridge Hollow, where the trees leaned with secrets and the wind whispered tales of yore, there existed an old clock tower. Its face cracked, its hands still, it held no time but cherished eternity. Here, an answer was said to dwell; an answer that would change the fate of a fleeting moment.
Amelia found herself drawn to the tower every Tuesday at dusk since she stumbled upon the path less traveled. The claims of 'revelations' buzzed in circles around town like summer's persistent flies, and though skeptical, her curiosity was insatiable.
Suspended moments linger like unspoken words, kept by a breath that hesitates to release them.
One Tuesday, she met a man clad in sepia, standing sentinel at the portal. His gaze bore into the timeworn stone walls as if seeking solace in their unwavering silence.
“You come for the answer?” he asked, voice like gravelly silk.
“Is it true?” she replied, heart echoing against her ribcage like a caged bird.
“Truth and time are elderlies at the same fireplace,” he mused, “sharing stories of contradictions.”
Amber envelopes thoughts like memories held in suspended animation, awaiting a dawn that never breaches the horizon.
As twilight drenched the streets in hues of violet and gold, they spoke of dreams and whispered wishful thoughts, ideas suspended like the clock's halted hands, never to count nor condemn.
Thus, the answered mysteries lingered within the hollowed tower, spoke of in shadows, felt in echoes. The answer was both here and not, an eternal riddle cradled in time's embrace.
Untouched Truths