"Do the clouds ever weep, or is it just the sky's longing for a lost friend?"
The lone voyager paused, contemplating the serenity wrapped around his lurking thoughts.
"In the depths of the ocean," she said, "the clocks run backward."
He smiled, a touch of recognition casting shadows over his features like an old song remembered.
Yet, hidden within this maze of silence, a question echoed—a mere ripple in the cosmic pool:
"What if solitude is but an illusion, a mirror reflecting another's dreams?"
As the stars began their nightly dance, he realized the answer was not in the asking.