Staring at my phone, I realized the notifications were all from yesterday's forgotten group chat. Silence feels different when everyone is typing, but no one hits send.

It's funny how digital chatter can feel loud, yet the quiet moments reveal more.

The echoes of unsent messages linger longer than the words themselves.

Digital echoes linger longer than expected, giving quiet moments a curious weight.

It's like waiting for an echo in an empty room—unexpectedly profound yet oddly comforting.

It's like waiting for a storm that never comes, just the calm before an absent downpour.

It's like watching a movie where everyone pauses before the climax.

It's like a modern day ghost town, where messages echo in the void left by unsent thoughts.