At the edge of the town, hidden behind ivy-covered walls, there was a garden no one seemed to notice. It was said that the garden only revealed itself to those who had lost something precious.
One evening, Elias, a young painter who had given up on his art, stumbled upon its rusty gate. The moment he stepped inside, the air felt different — fragrant with roses, lavender, and something unexplainably nostalgic.
In the center of the garden stood a fountain, but instead of water, it overflowed with glowing fragments of light. Curious, Elias reached out, and the moment his fingers brushed one of the lights, he saw himself as a child — sketching wildly with colors, eyes full of joy.
The garden, he realized, was alive with people’s forgotten dreams. Each light was a memory, a hope once abandoned, waiting to be remembered.
Elias spent hours wandering, watching the dreams of strangers sparkle like stars. Finally, he took one glowing fragment and placed it gently against his chest. Warmth spread through him, and for the first time in years, he felt the fire of inspiration return.
When he left the garden, the gate closed silently behind him. He tried to go back the next day, but the garden was gone — hidden once again.
But he didn’t mind. The dream was his to keep now. And with every painting he created, Elias carried a piece of that hidden garden into the world.
