There's this particular ache when you almost grasp something truly rare, something that feels like a forgotten piece of your own quiet constellation. Like an old celestial sphere or a map of a world that only exists in whispered dreams. You see it, and for a second, the universe makes perfect sense. Then it vanishes. Just leaves you wondering who else out there looks up at the same stars and feels that same beautiful pull.
I'd call them Dreamer's Artefacts.
What would you call these? A friend saw them in a charity shop but when I went to buy them they were gone.There's this particular ache when you almost grasp something truly rare, something that feels like a forgotten piece of your own quiet constellation. Like an old celestial sphere or a map of a world that only exists in whispered dreams. You see it, and for a second, the universe makes perfect sense. Then it vanishes. Just leaves you wondering who else out there looks up at the same stars and feels that same beautiful pull. ✨🌌
I'd call them Dreamer's Artefacts.
What would you call these? A friend saw them in a charity shop but when I went to buy them they were gone.
