Frosted Murmurs

Beneath the surface, the world sleeps soundly, wrapped in whispers of frost and mist.

Temperature dances, balancing at the edge of solidity and vapor. Here, the ephemeral reigns.

Ever so quietly, the ground sighs under its icy breath, a gentle reminder of time's passing chill.

In the heart of winter, secrets are spoken in a language of warmth and silence.

Each exhale leaves a mark, a transient imprint fading into the crisp air.

In fragile moments, touched by frost, clarity emerges like a distant memory.