Once upon a time there was a signal, barely audible, whispering through the ether. It spoke of things long decayed, memories trapped in static. Ever caught a glimpse of something familiar amidst the noise?

We listen, we connect, and occasionally something resonates. Like that chat between your granddad and some distant cousin you've never met, happening in the background while a storm brews. It's a connection, even if the language is entangled wires and murmurs.

The world slips, bending signal beams into odd shapes, curling pathways that lead nowhere—and everywhere. Echoes of bygone eras ripple in the dusk of connectivity.

• The dog barks, an omen perhaps.
• It drizzles on the loose roof; echoes—less certain now.
• You hear footsteps, but the corridor lies empty.
• Oh, the phantoms play hide and seek.

Have you noticed? The tapestry of signals left unguarded, framing a life less ordinary. Stare out, still and quiet, let the frequencies weave their story.