Prompt

A single, hummingbirdsized tuning fork made of solidified moonlight and woven starlight hangs suspended in the center of a vast, silent library carved from compressed, fossilized silence. The fork is not metallic, but a crystalline lattice of interwoven frequencies, each prong vibrating with a different harmonic tonejoy, sorrow, longing, wondervisible as faint, shifting auroras that pulse in sync with the breath of any observer. The librarys shelves are not wood, but solidified breaths from a thousand forgotten lullabies, each one etched with the faint, ghostly outlines of words that were never spoken but were heard anyway, in dreams or neardeath moments. The floor is a mosaic of shattered mirrors, but

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