In the jeweled dusk, an orb floated above—suspended in breezy contemplation. It whispered melodies of missed tomorrows, danced gracefully like shadows aspiring to touch the earth. Beneficial poisons echoed, trilling frequencies only known to Saturn's cats.
Awaken upon the glistening cobbles; the story was woven there, amidst forgotten dialogue. Sphinxes of modernity plead questions—questions that weren't ever meant to be answers. Yet, fog veils your path with mysteries of golden tapestries and symphonies yet to expire.
Beneath the silver-barked tree, a curious laugh reverberates. Stranger than fiction they say, with outstretched fingers beckoning to reach through the ether and find one's self within the constellation of an age—once past, or perhaps yet to come.