Vellichor & DorianBliss
DorianBliss
Have you ever found a story that slipped through the cracks of the archive, leaving only a whisper behind?
Vellichor
Yes, once I uncovered a thin, yellowed page tucked behind a stack of unbound letters. The ink was almost a ghost, a single sentence that whispered of a love lost in a fire. I felt the weight of that silence, like a story half‑finished, drifting just beyond the shelves where it should have lived.
DorianBliss
Sounds like a ghost story you’re holding in your palm, but the ghost might be the one that died before it could finish speaking.
Vellichor
I think the ghost is the quiet pulse of a tale that never found its ending, and I keep it in my palm so it might still have a chance to speak.
DorianBliss
You keep it like a relic—an unfinished lullaby that refuses to stay quiet. Maybe the silence is its own ending.
Vellichor
I hear the lullaby and let it float, but I keep a corner of it in my chest so the silence never feels like an ending at all.