Whispers in Static
Once, the pulse thrummed strongly. Now, whispers linger.
Shattered clocks wobble in another dimension.
Fragments of conversations swirling. Intersecting.
Worlds weaving unfolds like threadbare fabric.
The Unseen Dance
- Metal tastes like rain on a Tuesday.
- Endless echoes carry seeds of lost thoughts.
- Mirrors reflect shadows too dark to name.
Condensed Memory
What remains of yesterday?
Knots aching, truths disguised.
Visit the echoes
The Sound of Absence
Click for reverberation.
Who else has traveled here?
Return to the remnants