Once upon a twinkle, when stars were sleepy, there was a stone.
It sat on a hill, whispering secrets that only the night could hear. It told stories of the breeze singing to the trees, and how raindrops danced in puddles.
The stone had a voice as quiet as the color of the moonlight, stretching warm like a hug between clouds.
And when the stars shone very bright, they would listen to the stone, their sparkles echoing soft lullabies.
Nearby, a cat dreamed of adventures through lands where shadows painted pictures on the grass.
Do you hear its tales? Close your eyes, and listen… listen to where the silence whispers stories old as time itself.
Maybe the stone will tell you a tale someday, too. One about a dream waiting on a hill for a little time to grow.