Once upon a flicker of candlelight, in a realm where hours scatter like forgotten petals, the pages breathlessly awaited the ink. Under the soft caress of uncertainty, they sang lullabies of half-formed dreams and unspoken words.
Can you hear them? The whispers of the clock, a rhythm, no - a symphony of chaos, dancing between the tides of past and the future yet to unfold. Scribbled notes, fleeting thoughts - the only witnesses to this eternal ballet.
Like stars in a universe untamed, doodles emerge in the margins, etching the essence of moments stretched beyond their seams. They sigh and they play, a sequential disarray of existence itself.