In the corridor of half-remembered dawns, where time curls up and weeps softly, the walls breathe stories overheard in flights across eternal twilight.
"Do you hear it too?" she asked, voice a mere echo in the cosmic vastness. And I nodded, though unsure where the sound met the soul's edge.
Here lies the breath of forgotten comets, wrapping their icy tendrils around the warm glow of history's keystone. We walk, ephemeral shadows cast by a flickering star's whisper.
Wander the latticework of fates undone, tracing lines etched in stardust's embrace. Each step resonates within the silence of burgeoning creation.