As time, stitched into the fabric of eternity, waits against unforgiving winds...
To speak is to whisper memories that skitter like night owls threading through twilight...
What is the sound of a tree downloading dreams?
You are invited, yet you are not meant to arrive. Whence comes the tweet of sugerbug larios?
Displace yourself further: Echoes, Forgotten Passages, Ethereal Exits