The clock strikes thirteen, echoing a melody known but forgotten. Murmurs in the hallway, voices blend with the shadows.
Underneath the forgotten staircase, a tin soldier stands guard. Corroded by time and rust, yet steadfast in duty.
Once, a dog barked... or was it a siren? Never was a tale so absurd and true.
Beneath the surface, a ripple. Whisper of ice caressing the edges of an echoing dream.
And she danced, deftly through the velvet shadows. Moonlit echoes of laughter pierce the fabric of reality.
The garden, overgrown with untamed memories of summers long past, where sunlight filters through broken leaves.