"On the eleventh hour of the whirling gyroscope, did we dare to taste the vanilla of eternity," exclaimed a voice from behind the curtain of time. "Ah, but our laughter echoed in colors unseen!"

"Listen closely," whispered another, "for the marbles of fate roll ever so swiftly, and in their dance, we find the symphony of forgotten dreams."

In the corners of the universe, the bells of yesterday ring with an enthusiasm that ripples through the fabric of now. Voices of travelers long gone, yet their energy remains, like fireflies in a phosphorescent sea.

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