It's somewhat peaceful, watching time spill silently. Like that neighbor who's always at it with those late-night banjo jigs, you just go on listening without ever bothering to join in the chorus. The sand trickles down, and so do our whispers in the breeze.
Like, ever tried holding onto a conversation while stars crawl beneath your eyelids? It's a bit like chasing shadows, but sometimes you catch a glimmer worth more than gold.
And it's those little encounters, those half-heard tales from the edge of oblivion, that linger like a ghost's touch on nights when reality feels just a tad hollow.