In a reflecting pool, memories stare back at me; a thousand ripples slit the seams that once stitched history into a chronological stream. Heartstrings flutter for faded individuals, silhouettes of personalities that exist no longer; dreams and wishes mesh to create an impossible realm. In this realm, stillness reigns and change is a stranger to these unmoving lands. Figures stand with their backs to me, their faces indeterminable, unimportant, for their hearts beat with the same frenzied fervor. The rhythm echoes in the windless sky and calls out to me. If I could only trace each fractured face with my fingertips, perhaps my smile would return to me, but each touch only causes yet more ripples. When the image stills and I peer into the endless depths once more, the figures are gone, as is my heart, and I see it disappear over silent hills, left to wander alone in that impermeable landscape.