In the twilight hour, the echoes of forgotten laughter seep through crumbling walls—a kaleidoscope of sound. Each fragment, a sliver of memory, glints in the dim light. She rewinds the film, searching for the flicker of a smile lost in the shadows.
Time, a tapestry unraveled, threads unspooling through fingers that tremble, tracing paths anew. With vivid clarity, the dance of the day unfurls; its end, a promise of beginnings unspoken. To feel the world collapse in whispers around you, and yet find solace in its embrace.
How fleeting these ambers of sunset, consuming the horizon in a glorious fire before surrendering to the deep indigo of night. They flicker like the past, vibrant and elusive, echoed in the shiver of leaves under the moon's watch.
Among ancient stones, the murmurs of the earth tell tales of when stars burned bright, a celestial refrain. Wander these paths in search of the unseen, the untold—where each turn lingers longer in dreams than in waking thoughts.
Wandering Edge