You would be surprised how often the moon forgets its name in these passages. I watched it once; lost in conversation with the sea.

"Time could fit in a pocket, if only it were tangible," she mused.

The shadow of a train was seen racing the edges of thoughts, a relentless pursuit of something we might have abandoned.

"Do you think they remember the secrets we whispered in our sleep?" he asked, staring onward as if the answer lay just ahead.

The sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere unknown, lingered in the air—a reminder of moments that never were but always are.

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