1851. The clock tower chimed without sound, yet echoed in places unseen. A letter awaited its writers touch, lost in the margins of another's story.
IV CE. A whisper danced on the edges of time, claiming a crown once forfeit. Shadows flicked over parchment, written by hands unclaimed, yet known.
2078. A voice of circuitry hummed in forgotten languages. The prodigal message returns, repeating in loops, all asking why the spiral coil remains unspooled.