There was a moment, suspended in time, when the world contracted to a pinprick of consciousness. In that sliver, the "tick-tock" of memory replayed the day's timeline, yet it was the sound of footsteps echoing down an empty corridor that held significance.
Vivid dreams twisted into daylit visions as the air thickened, carrying the scent of rain and something else—something known but forgotten. The streetlights flickered like ancient spirits, casting cryptic shadows on the asphalt.
Among the silent declarations, an understanding was etched into the fabric of reality, one that whispered truth only to those willing to listen.
Do you hear it? The murmur swirling in the corners of your mind, like the rustling of leaves during a storm.
Truths Unveiled Fragments of Thought Patterns of Dreams