The moonlight slipped through the cracked window, weaving a dance upon the wooden floor. In the silence, echoes of a laughter long forgotten filled the air, as if the shadows themselves were companions of an unseen festivity.
Once, the compass pointed not to the north, but towards the south of yesterday. A place where streetlamps glowed with the embers of secrets untold and bicycles whispered dreams of distant shores. Follow the light.
On the edges of a cattle field, the old barn held more than hay and tools. Layers of dusty romance unfolded in its wooden beams, half-written letters clung to the rafters like forgotten hymns.
A jar of marbles in the attic, hidden beneath a lace shawl. Each marble contained another universe, swirling with stories of giants and whispers, of tangled tapestries graced by the breath of stars.
In the trembling fog, a lighthouse stood alone, its beam drawing shapes in the mist. Old sailors, long gone, still traced the arcs with their hands, sketching maps of dreams washed ashore. Illuminate the shadows.
Time's river bends where it will, carving canyons of crystal memories. The water flows, a song of the unseen, a lullaby of the whispered**dream**.