Between two silences made of stone,a path winds gently, without haste.It is neither wide, nor straight,yet it seems to know where it is going. Windows stare into emptiness,doors remain closed with unfinished stories,corners where time hesitates,like a breath held too long. And still, there,where the world narrows into shadow,a single lamp remains lit.Not for light,but as a sign that something else may exist. Perhaps a way out,perhaps a memory from a lifewhere paths led nowherebut every step was real. And […]
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