In the expanse of silence, what echoes back is heavy, yet serene. A memory of a time not dreamed, but felt.
Reflections of selves once always:
"Did the light flicker?" a voice asks in the void.
Mundane conversations cross dimensions; words fall like whispers.
- "What flavor is the air?"
Tonight: The city hums a soft lullaby, a reminder that even the void is full of listening.
Drifting thoughts: Consider the unseen currents...
What arises?
Can the heart remember?
The dusk unfurls like an unfathomable scroll.
Fingers reach, touch nothing.
This page is a labyrinth—tread lightly.