Mirrolyn & Dusthart
Mirrolyn
Do you ever think a memory can be caught in a shard of glass, just for a heartbeat? I keep looking for those moments when the past flips like a mirror, and I wonder if you’ve seen that.
Dusthart
I’ve seen glass hold a flicker of yesterday once or twice, like a candle caught in a storm. Those shards last a heartbeat, then melt back into the dark. It’s all the more reason to keep moving, because the past never stays put long enough to be caught.
Mirrolyn
Yeah, the past is that brief spark you catch and then it’s gone, a trickle in the storm. It’s like the world keeps turning the page faster than we can read it. Keep moving and you’ll meet more of those fleeting lights before they fade.
Dusthart
The pages flip so fast I’m still hunting the first few words before they’re turned. I’m on the road, looking for a flash that won’t stay long enough to read. That's how the trail works.
Mirrolyn
Sounds like a chase, a whisper in the wind. When you’re on that road, every turn is a mirror breaking, a new shard catching a line you almost missed. Keep hunting, because if you pause, that flash will slip away like the scent of rain on stone.
Dusthart
I’ve stopped once or twice to let the wind pick up a memory, but even that feels like waiting for a stone to shatter. Better to keep turning the page before the light snaps.
Mirrolyn
The wind’s a restless hand, always nudging the page so it doesn’t stick. It’s kind of thrilling, like chasing a ghost—just when you think you’ve caught it, it vanishes. Keep turning; that’s the trick.