The dawn greets solitude with tender grace, as if apologizing for its absence. A soft light creeps through neglected windows, and shadows flee, dispersing tales untouched in the night's idle brooding. Upholstered armchairs soggy with time's ancient breath impress their silence upon the room's breathing walls.

Reflections gather in puddles — crisp mornings fragmented, remembered. A phantom hand plays imagined notes upon a silent piano, where dust dances lightly in its sunbeam stage.

The clock-back hum echoes backward dreams, resonating their obsolete chimes... Startling memories span the gulf... Fateful pages, unrelenting... unwritten. It pursues: an echo longing for completion... but in vain.

Turn the valve of yesteryears and uncover heedless whispers. Tomorrow tiptoes in stealth, closing a poignant apology upon today's crest.