Gn the garden, time didn’t move. Flowers bloomed and wilted, but they did so without hurry. The air was thick with the scent of roses, lilacs, and lavender, but there was a strange stillness in the breeze. It wasn’t just the flowers that had been suspended in time; everything in this garden had a rhythm that was slower, quieter. The leaves hung heavy, as if holding onto memories, each petal a symbol of something forgotten.
The Garden of Forgotten Dreams
Visitors to the garden often wondered why they felt so heavy with emotion. It wasn’t just the air or the colors that tugged at the soul—it was the memories that seemed to linger in the leaves. The garden held not just plants but the thoughts and dreams of everyone who had ever stood in its silence. People came seeking solace, hoping the garden would unlock a truth they hadn’t yet realized. But the garden didn’t reveal its secrets. It only held them.
Beneath the Weight of Stillness
The silence was not empty but dense, like fog made of forgotten thoughts. It clung to walls and windows, humming low like a memory too shy to speak. In that stillness, every sound became sacred — the creak of a chair, the breath between words. Nothing moved, yet everything pulsed quietly with meaning, waiting to be heard.
In the stillness of time, the garden holds what the world cannot see.
A Place Where Hearts Could Rest
Time, it seemed, could not disturb the peace of the garden. It was a sanctuary, not for the living, but for the memories of those who had passed through. Some believed it was a place to heal, but others knew it was where memories went to rest—never to be disturbed, never to fade. The garden knew how to hold onto the past and the present, allowing them to coexist in perfect harmony.
