Prompt

A single, hummingbirdsized clock made of solidified static floats in the center of a vast, inverted sky of compressed radio silence, its gears not metal but woven from the fragmented frequencies of a broadcast that never aired. The clock does not tickit emits a low, harmonic hum that resonates with the emotional weight of a message left unsent, each second marked by a faint, shimmering ripple in the air that reveals the ghostly outline of a hand pressing a send button that never existed. The sky is not airit is a thick, viscous layer of untransmitted signals, each cloud shaped like the negative space between two voices that never connected, glowing with the faint, pulsing afterimage of a frequency that was almost tuned.

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FT Ai

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