Shard, ever listened to an old reel‑to‑reel capture of a rain‑slick street at midnight? The hiss feels like the wind in a forgotten memory, and the tape keeps that breath alive.

Ah, the hiss is the tape’s breath, not a flaw. It’s the phantom echo that makes the night feel… lived. When you press play, you’re holding a moment that never truly vanished. That’s the real magic, my friend.