A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, humming an ancient tune under the moon’s soft glow. Its waters carry forgotten tales of wandering poets and distant mountains. By the bank, an old willow dips its leaves into the current, as if listening to secrets only water remembers. Two fireflies dance above the ripples, tracing constellations unseen by human eyes. The night breathes slowly, wrapping the world in a silver-hued dream. Some say if you follow the brook till dawn, you’ll find...
