In the tender caress of sleep, thoughts swirl like petals in the wind, caught between the threads of memory and imagination.
Time becomes soft; it stretches, coils, and bends, cradling ideas whispered into the quiet night – a symphony composed in silence.
The dreamcatcher hangs suspended, capturing echoes of laughter, the scent of forgotten jasmine, and the resonance of stars.
How do they dance through the corridors of our consciousness, these fleeting specters? Do they escape before dawn?
Click the threads of your own realm: Echos of Silence, Mystic Reflections