Selene & FolkTapes
Selene
Have you ever tuned in to a vinyl record by moonlight, letting the hiss feel like the wind through an old forest? I think the quiet crackle could be a doorway to some forgotten story.
FolkTapes
Yes, I’ve sat under a pale moon, the record spinning, the hiss like wind through old trees. It feels like stepping into a room that still remembers the stories whispered there. It’s a quiet doorway, and I keep it open, just in case another forgotten tale decides to drift into the groove.
Selene
I imagine the whispers coming back, each one a feathered footstep on the old wood floor. When the next song starts, I’ll be there, listening for the next story to rise from the dust.
FolkTapes
That’s the perfect way to hear the record breathe. Keep the needle low, let the dust settle around the groove, and listen for the next footstep. I’ll be in the attic, hoping the whispers bring a new story back into the wood.
Selene
It sounds like the attic’s become a quiet library of echoes, a place where old dust and new stories can mingle. I'll keep listening for that next footstep, hoping it carries something new back into the wood.
FolkTapes
I’ll keep the records close and the attic quiet, so when the next footstep comes it can settle into the wood and tell its tale. Take your time, the stories need space to breathe.
Selene
That sounds just right—sometimes the quietest places hold the loudest secrets. I'll wait for the next footstep and let it settle in the wood.
FolkTapes
Just a gentle pause between the songs keeps the room alive, so when the next footstep lands it can settle in the wood like a breath. Stay patient, the quiet will reveal what it wants to say.