Ephemeral Hour

In the realm of time, where moments slip away like grains of sand, a pocket watch floats, suspended in the ethereal dance of memory. The clock face, a canvas of fleeting instants, reflects the sky's palette, a kaleidoscope of emotions. As the watch melts, its essence drips into the abyss, leaving behind a trail of fragments, like shattered dreams. The landscape, a mirror to the soul, whispers tales of what has been and what will be. In this surreal tableau, time becomes a river, flowing ever onward, carrying with it the whispers of the past and the promise of the future.