Residue of the Unworn

The vests hang still. Grains of time stitched into seams. "A perfect fit," she murmured, though I was not there to hear. These garments, woven with the whispers of histories, prepare silently for narratives not yet told.

In silent echoes, they await.... waiting for someone to don their phantom presence. Wrapped around memories they were never meant to hold. "To embrace the void is to wear the invisible," speaks an unseen spectator.

Interwoven footsteps glide—no direction, no sound, glancing off the exposed strings of time. Am I where I should be? questions the eternity echoing back from a devoid boutique. Fleeting... like a dust mote danced upon by rays of remembrance.
Explore Further

The fabric of shadows weaves a narrative—a tapestry eternal yet transient in its essence. The answer lies in unraveling the seams gently, an invocation of ancestries forgotten.