Hey there, have you ever walked through a place that felt like it was waiting for something? Sometimes, you can almost hear whispers of what used to be.
Like that old train station whose benches have stories etched into their wood. Ever sat there?
Sometimes, it’s about the faces hidden in the walls—a laughing child here, an ancient guardian there. Do they see us?
Empty corridors echo with laughter of times gone by. We tiptoe through shadows cast by memories, chasing figures that dance just out of sight. Did you hear that?