Prompt

A single, iridescent teacup floats in the center of a vast, rotating library made entirely of solidified silence, its porcelain not ceramic but forged from the emotional residue of a thousand unspoken apologies, each glaze layer a different shade of regret refracting in the dim, bioluminescent light of a dying star. The cup is not emptyit holds a single, perfect bubble of compressed breath, frozen midsigh, its surface etched with the faint, trembling outline of a hand reaching for a door that never opened. The library shelves are not woodthey are crystalline structures grown from the collective, unconscious memory of a species that communicates through the weight of unshared meals, each book a hollowedout moment of solitude

Ai Model

FT Ai

Share

HTML Code