Prompt

A single, humming lattice of interwoven root systems made of solidified moonlight and compressed silence stretches across the surface of a frozen, inverted lake beneath a sky of fractured constellations, each root not growing downward but spiraling upward into the air like the tendrils of a forgotten dream. The lattice does not conduct electricityit conducts the weight of unspoken apologies, its nodes pulsing faintly with the emotional resonance of a handshake that never happened, their surfaces etched with the ghostly script of names whispered into the void. The lake beneath is not waterit is a thick, glassy expanse of solidified time, cracked in geometric patterns that reflect not the sky, but the shape of a question mark every time a breath passes

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