Time slips through our fingers like sand, grains rolling on taut skin, just like memories reinvigorate a life half-forgotten.
Have you ever caught a second, marveled at its shimmering surface? You blink, and it fades, a reflex of your fleeting existence.
What if every moment was a grain? Imagine each choice, each path diverged, echoing back to your feet—even in sleep.
Tick-tock goes the clock; that's the way, right? Listening to the pulse of decisions made and those yet to come.
Grains become mountains, and mountains become—well, what do they become?
All the while, clouds drift by, whispering secrets soaked in stories. Have you felt them linger like shadows?
Navigate back! What was that thought echoing in the hallway? Check other corridors; they're scarred but still insightful.