The day wraps around me like a well-worn blanket. I stand alone in the twilight, where the sun concedes to the moon its fleeting empire. Here, everything seems slower, more deliberate. My thoughts meander like streams, diverging, converging, never settling.
There's a rhythm to it, an unspoken beat that pulls at the seams of reality. I hear whispers carried by the wind—echoes of what could have been, what might still be. I dance silently, my soul harmonizing with the spiral's eternal waltz. Month to month, season to season, life spirals onward.
Do I follow the current willingly, or am I swept away? It's a question I ask myself often, but the answer remains elusive, tangled in the undercurrents of my consciousness. I spin amidst these thoughts, a solitary dancer in a balmy corridor of dusk.
I remember fragments: a friend’s laughter, the scent of rain on sunbaked concrete, the warmth of a smile across a crowded room. These memories echo, fade, evolve into something new and unfamiliar—yet familiar.
I pause. The spiral slows, revealing a fleeting glimpse of the center. The allure of simplicity tugs at my spirit. Enter the maze. Take another step.