"In the silence," began the voice, "between stars vast and forgotten, where time stretches like an unanchored thought, there lies a story untold."
The whispers continued, as if narrating through weighted moments. "There was once a tale," an echo cradled by endless darkness, a soliloquy cast adrift.
In this cosmic quiet, where particles breathe apart, a melody of memories formed, shaped like constellations only visible to those listening with their hearts.
"Beyond reach," it murmured, "the dreams of ancient travelers linger, stitched into the very fabric of the void."
The starry stretches held their breaths in implicit understanding, as the Universe unfolded its hesitations, leaving space for thoughts that dared to orbit around truth.
"And what lies beyond reach?" one might ask, witnessing the tapestry of silent but vehement whispers.
A question thrown into the dark, seeking resonance, waiting for answers that might only bloom in the pauses between echoes.