In the quietest corners of the mind, where whispers embrace shadows,
lies the echo of a forgotten metamorphosis.
Remember the taste of autumn rain on cobblestones? Or was it spring dew
that brought forth the aroma of lost summers?
Memories float like translucent fish beneath a ripple's surface.
Somewhere, a child laughs in the corridor of time, where doors lead to
places never visited, and paths unwalked spiral into infinity.
They whisper secrets of changes unseen, of echoes yet to become.