Dusty roads whisper forgotten songs, melodies hiding beneath the surface of the mind like ripples, each echo a memory once cherished, now simply surface noise. The way sunlight dances on the river, it enchants the stones who envy its freedom. Each day begins in shades of bittersweet nostalgia, and we meander along past moments absorbed in demential curiosity.
Does the cat remember the rain? Does the paper heart recognize its own tale? When twilight sinks, it unravels a bittersweet journey, across afternoons spent chasing golden hour hues. Always, the river flows past, uninvited, yet faithful, as we create narratives of what could have been, or what may yet emerge from the shallows of our own shallow truths.
You once wrote in a diary, feeling the weight of words, a longing that now flees like a bird startled from its resting place. We watch them fly across the river's mirror surface, a reflection fractured by time’s gentle touch.
Travel Further