Those moments, like whispers in the wind, brush against the edges of your mind, their delicate echoes teasing the lines of your conscious reality.
You sit at the café on the corner, where the sun filters through leaves above, casting a familiar golden hue upon the table. The smell of brewed coffee, the chatter of a language you don't understand—but it's been said before, in a dream perhaps. You close your eyes, just for a moment, and there it is. The feeling of déjà vu, that previous life stirring beneath the surface, like waves revisiting the shore.
The waitress smiles, and for an instant, her face morphs into one you thought you'd forgotten. You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of yesterdays and half-remembered tomorrows. You turn to the window, watching as pedestrians mill about their routines, their stories intertwining, unspooled threads of a larger narrative.
In the distance, a bell tolls—its sound rich and full, bouncing off the terracotta roofs. It draws your focus to the alley just beside the café, a narrow path illuminated by warm afternoon light. A small sign reads "Curiosity Shop," its lettering faded and somehow inviting. Without a thought, you rise, the echo of that invisible tether pulling you towards the threshold of the unknown.
Step Through the Door Venture Further