Have you ever felt an echo in the breeze? A whisper that isn't meant for present ears? They say shadows of the past have a way of revealing themselves, not always with roar, but with a sigh, a gentle ripple through the tapestry of now. Just like when that elusive fog starts to lift...
Imagine this: wandering through a forest of forgotten thoughts, where trees tell tales of a time before time itself. The leaves murmur secrets, and dare I say, the ground beneath seems restless. It feels as if with every step, you’re both losing and finding pieces of a story untold. What does the earth beneath your feet remember of the world above?
Perhaps you've stumbled onto a memory path, worn down by the passage of many a soul. Or maybe, it’s just a fleeting moment that glances off your imagination, leaving you pondering the delicate dance between what was, what is, and what merely could be. Do you hear it? The soft rustle of time etching its continuous, enigmatic script?