Paths don’t lead to destinations. They dissolve, encased in echoing whispers.
Reflections in puddles nod to roads not taken. Their surface tension breaks with a thought.
Unmarked maps unfold, sketching outskirts of reality.
Witness the fierce gusts of anonymity in neon streetlights.
A breath drawn, a shadow collects in alleyways of memory.
Where do we go when lost? Click the link to navigate.