Inverse: A Silent Echo

A spotlight flickers.
The detective, hats are cast shadows.
In disguise, he approaches,
Cloaked in swirling steam.

Through fractured glass panes,
Her gaze pierces the night,
Silent screams echo in wordless frames,
An invitation, an eclipse, a truth revealed.

Crossroads pulse under moonlit whispers,
They dance backward, forwards,
The clock unwinds, ever patient,
Time is not linear here.

In a world devoid of sonic overtures,
where every gesture holds a universe,
This tale of inversion finds its breath.
The narrative unfolds not in dialogue,
but in the delicate play of shadow and light.

Follow the Wheel To the Edge The Unsung Twilight