Sometimes it feels like we walk these hallways forever, you know? The kind where the walls whisper secrets you can't quite grasp but can feel in your bones. It's like that time when you reached for something that was never there, and I swear it brushed against you just for a second.
I've been noticing those little sensations more lately. You ever sit in a place and feel like there's a presence just to your left, hovering but absent? I can't see it, but I know it's there. Kind of like when you feel a breeze on a windless day, but this is more... tangible.
Just yesterday, I was tracing my fingers along the cold, bare walls, feeling for cracks, stories, or echoes of footsteps long passed. And then I remembered when we used to chase after shadows together, pretending they belonged to someone important.
Anyway, I'm writing this from one of those moments. If you listen closely, maybe you'll hear it too. Turn the corner, and you'll find another path.