The door drew itself open, unbidden, to corridors that whispered forgotten truths; the silence was echoing, almost alive.
Light splintered, refracted not into rainbows, but into fragments of memories—faces that were not faces, places that were shadows.
In the distance, a clock ticked backward, unraveling the tapestry of time thread by singular mutlilated thread.
Listen closely, they said with eyes like stormy seas, the star beneath your skin reminds you it's never truly dark.
Vibrations of forgotten melodies resonated even in the space between your scattered thoughts, don't hum the tune but...
Askin' questions only kids'd know, priorities unopened like games left in boxes—a trombone sonnet spirals in irradiated arcs.
They entered in pairs; laughter tracing outlines where echoes hung—here was the border where seas touched the sky.
Discover cubic memory or dance with intertwined shades.
Underneath it all, drums beating in tandem with the pulse of ancient wilderness, uncharted territories unspool in the amber horizon—unidirectional vectors pulling us along the spine of unuttered prophecy.