"Is it going to rain again?" asked the clock, ticking in reverse,
as shadows stretched across the rooftop garden.
"The garden is under the sea," murmured the cat, gazing at her reflection.
"I found the book beneath the table," she remembered aloud,
while the walls leaned in closer.
"Those words were never spoken," the echo replied, fading into silence.
"Dance with me between the stars," whispered a voice from nowhere,
as the moon lit a path through the fog.
"The stars are whispers of forgotten dreams," he answered, holding a lantern that flickered with shadows.
"Where does the door lead?" a child asked the old tree,
its roots entwined with echoes of laughter.
"The door was always here," the old tree sighed, in a voice that rustled the leaves.