In scattered corners of yesterday lies the echo of this morning's sunlight, slipping through the gap in dream-draped curtains.
Do you remember that snowy afternoon by the old oak? A compass lying abandoned in a puddle reflecting voices long forgotten, yet echoing somewhere deep within.
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Vagrancies of a shoreline dusk when grains of sand whisper secrets to the restless waves, carrying reflections of shattered dreams once replaced with hopes anew.
This clock ticks differently in places void of meaning, lost within the confines of our subconscious, where past and future become an eternal symphony.
Were we not lost in unspoken risings of day? An unseen orchestra plays on, threads weaving broken yet poignant life notes.