Monsoon Whispers Through Temple Bells
A humid hush swallows the dawn, where distant temple bells hum like trapped fireflies. The storm’s breath carries wind-chimes through bamboo groves, their metallic sighs dissolving into the earth. Beneath this, water trickles through hidden channels—cool, deliberate, like memory itself. The air thickens with the ghost of rain, each droplet a secret whispered to roots and stones.
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