What will remain of this very moment? We carry little stories—whispers our mind tells us every day. Where would we be now if we hadn’t met that person, or if we had made a different choice? What would our lives look like? Our soul drifts through an ocean of possibilities. We exist in an in-between state, watching ourselves like a floating point—unaware of the other realities that might have been. We live our lives, some things will fade, but the wind will keep whispering.