The Lost Toy Books

Memories Strung Across Dreamscapes

In the silent corners between dawn and dusk, where light bends and whispers secrets, lay the forgotten tomes with pages of whispers. Each book a castle, a harbor, afloat in echoes' tide, alone yet together.

Once read by the moon's curious gaze, now they're marionettes to the wind's whims, tales of rubber rainbows and shadow puppets peeked through misted glasses on overnight tai chi. Have you seen the toy octopus knitting clouds?

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