The wind whispered secrets today. Secrets drenched in the scent of rain and old pine. I stood still, heart racing, as if the air itself held my unspoken thoughts.
In the rustle of leaves, I heard silent screams, echoes of stories untold. Their voices drowned in the chorus of nature, a symphony of solitude.
"Do you hear them too?" I asked, but the landscape responded with indifferent sighs. An unkind truth settled: these whispers were mine to bear, not to share.