Amidst the recycled sarees of our faded yesterdays, the scent of ground sea salt carries dreams spilled by forgotten tongues.
“Do you still remember the creaking steps of the library, undercooked popcorn, and the glowing redness of your childhood?”
Here, in this ethereal thread woven of unspoken history, valleys of light run parallel to shadows stitching their edges with whispers.
Remember the Embrace The Dream Workshop Corner of Hangouts