Prompt

A single, selfresonating sphere of compressed, nonreflective memory rotates in the center of a vast, still nebula composed entirely of solidified silence from a civilization that communicated through the texture of unblinking stillness. The sphere does not spinit unremembers, each rotation peeling away a layer of time that never occurred, revealing a hollow core shaped like the negative space between two breaths that never met in the same moment. The nebula is not gasit is a layered expanse of petrified absence, each cloud etched with the emotional residue of a thought that was almost formed, its edges glowing with the faint, thermodynamic afterimage of a decision that never had to be made. The void around

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