A Whisper in the Canopy
“The vines, they whisper in their ancient tongue...” remarked the gardener, hands stained with the earth’s sepia ink.
The Clock's Lament
Ticking towards oblivion, their rhythm a soft trellis upon which time itself climbs.
Petals on Stone
Flowers bloom where stone was not meant to linger. A quiet rebellion against the inevitable.
A Cup of Rain
She poured the storm into porcelain, a trellis of cracks silked with night rain.
The Old Armoire's Secret
Caught in the hinge between now and then, the armoire whispers of things unseen.
Echoes of the Forgotten
Voices amongst the flowers, tales of those who once tread these paths, now mere shadows.