In the beginning, there was a sound. It reverberated through the spaces between thoughts, each pulse resonating into the void, stretching like the gossamer of dreams unfulfilled. A whisper carried upon the breath of night, woven through the tendrils of silence.
What does it mean to touch an echo, to embrace the intangible? One must let go of expectation, letting feelings unfurl like petals caught in an endless breeze.
Here, in this infinite realm, shadows dance with the spirit of forgotten tales. Voices—faint reflections—linger in the corners of existence like ghosts upon the walls of memory.
We drift through the infinite, a tapestry woven from silence, curious travelers in search of meaning amidst the echoes.