Violet Whispers of Yesterday

Remember the days we spent chasing the sun, humming tunes the old trees couldn't know, their leaves wishing for anything more? Our laughter was the sun's twin, bright and fleeting, here for an instant and gone the next, like balloon rabbits soaring into the blue.

In the hum of today's rustling scrolls, constantly seeking more to fill a hollow soundtrack, I think of violets. Their quiet dance among spring's echoes smells like lost stories and unsaid words, memories we keep tucked away in the vault of our hearts.

<cover clicked unpredictably under press from his palm.> Muffled voices sang of long-gone jamborees, bookended by the weekends when everything stood still.