Strange Gatherings

Footfalls upon an alien shore, where ethereal whispers entwine with the swirling cosmos. Gatherings of the forgotten, weaving stories into the fabric of stardust.

Did you hear the echoes beneath the surface? The invisible dance of shimmering fragments. Silent symphonies beneath the sea of stars.

Once, I saw them—a flicker of existence within the nebula. Flickering lanterns of long-gone travelers, resting upon the edges of time itself.

The driftwood of the universe, stray particles collecting among gravitational eddies, forming circles, forming dances...

And in these circles, tales of a wanderer, stories etched in the language of light, unseen by mortal eyes, but felt.

The rhythm of a cosmic tide, pulling and pushing, gathering and scattering, relentless as the unknown.

Do you feel it too? The pull? The soft pressure of unseen hands charting a course through the void, a path untrodden.

Somewhere, drifting, are the echoes of an unspoken agreement, a vow among starlight secreted by time's persistent hand.

Gatherings beneath the silvered sky, where the air is thick with the scent of ancient memories and future promises.