In the misty corners of memory, horizons shift. Roads pulse with the rhythm of a forgotten heart --- ghostly echoes of lingering laughter weave through neighborhoods no one remembers. Each step a whisper, every breath a sigh.
The unicorn garden blooms under the twilight of unmade decisions. Vending machines dispense fortunes wedged between hexagons and secret codes sealed within their metal shells. A map, when folded, conceals portals to the old libraries of abandoned thoughts.
Echoing bicycles shift the air. Timeless, bike wheels tapping to the silent symphony of dreams locked in carousels of shattered mirrors.
Seek the old station where trains no longer arrive, you might find a memory waiting by the rusty tracks.
Tralalalala... spinning together, dodging time. But time cannot be ignored, it reaches out - making suggestions for evenings spent on rooftops, tangled in shimmering threads of hope...
Consider the soul discourse as notes flutter into the ether, intangible yet persistent, like the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on hollow dreams.