{"sections":[{"description":"This is a test see if the audio works it's a great test of great things we are doing many great things I love you dumb bum bum bum bum","color":"#3a86ff","image":"","title":"Test","audio":""},{"title":"New Section 2","description":"In a quiet town where every clock ticked two seconds slow, a young girl named Mira found a pocket watch buried beneath an old oak tree. The moment she opened it, the world around her froze—leaves paused mid-fall, birds hung suspended in the air.\n\nOnly Mira could move.\n\nAt first, she panicked. Then she noticed a note tucked inside the watch: “Time belongs to the one who listens.”\n\nSo she listened.\n\nShe listened to the wind holding its breath, to the silent flutter of wings, to the heartbeat of a world waiting. And slowly, she heard something else—a faint ticking coming from deep inside the forest.\n\nFollowing it, she found an ancient stone door. With each step, the ticking grew louder. She touched the door…and everything burst back into motion.\n\nLeaves fell. Birds flew. Time resumed.\n\nBut the pocket watch was gone.\n\nIn its place, Mira found a single message etched into the door:","color":"#ff00ff","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1557683316-973673baf926","audio":"https://samplelib.com/lib/preview/mp3/sample-3s.mp3"},{"title":"The light house","description":"For a hundred years, the lighthouse on Wraithwind Cliff kept its silent watch. It had no name, because no one names a building, but the sailors called it the Old Eye. When storms rolled in from the Blackwater Sea, its beam swept across the waves like a guardian angel with a single golden wing.\n\nBut the lighthouse had a secret:\nIt dreamed.\n\nEach night, when the final fishing boat returned and the harbor lamps flickered awake, the lighthouse dreamed of the stars above it. It dreamed of flight. It dreamed of rising from its stone foundation, leaving its rocky pedestal behind, and dancing among the constellations like a silent comet.\n\nOnly one person knew its secret—Lira, the keeper’s daughter.\nShe was twelve the first time she heard the lighthouse speak.\n\n“Why do you cry, little one?” the stone walls hummed softly as she climbed the spiral stairs. “Your tears fall like the tide.”\n\nLira froze on the steps. The lantern flame flickered. She pressed her small hand against the warm stone and whispered, “Did you say something?”\n\nThe tower rumbled an answer.\n“I only asked what troubles your heart.”\n\nFrom that night on, Lira and the lighthouse talked. She told it stories about the fishermen, about the traveling merchants, about the colorful creatures she imagined lived beneath the waves. And it told her of the constellations, of the winds, of the dreams it caught while its beacon cut through the night.\n\nYears passed. Lira grew older. The village prospered, then declined, then rose again—such was the rhythm of seaside towns. But the lighthouse stayed the same.\n\nOne winter night, a storm unlike any other crushed the coastline. Winds screamed. Waves clawed at the cliff. The lighthouse shook violently, and for the first time in its century of existence, its beam sputtered.\n\n“Lira…” it whispered, “Help me.”\n\nShe ran up the stairs three at a time. The mechanism groaned. Gears slipped. The lens shuddered. Lira, soaked from rain, hugged the warm central column.\n\n“I’m here,” she said. “I won’t let you fall.”\n\nBut the storm was merciless. A monstrous wave slammed into the cliff, and the foundation cracked. Stone groaned like an injured giant.\n\nThe lighthouse whispered, “I’ll break apart.”\n\n“Then fly,” Lira whispered back. “You always wanted to.”\n\nThe lighthouse was silent.\n\nThen something ancient and bright awakened inside it.\n\nThe lens flared. Light burst upward—not outward—shooting into the sky like a spear of dawn. The tower shuddered, cracked, and then…\n\n…rose from the cliff.\n\nStone lifted. Iron sang. The lighthouse, bathed in golden light, ascended through the storm clouds as if the sky itself had been waiting.\n\nLira watched from the cliff’s edge, her hair whipped by the wind.\n“You’re free,” she whispered through tears. “Go.”\n\nThe lighthouse drifted higher and higher until it joined the stars it had admired for a hundred years. On clear nights, if you stand on Wraithwind Cliff, you can still see it—a new star, pulsing slowly like a heartbeat, watching over sailors from above.\n\nAnd sometimes, when the tide is low and the wind is gentle, you can hear a faint whisper:\n\n“Thank you, Lira.”","color":"#8b7d6b","image":"images/img_691a8a2fd3a47.png","audio":""},{"title":"The clock makers last hour","description":"In the quiet city of Aramoor, where the streets curved like old piano notes and lamplight goldened the cobblestones, there lived a clockmaker named Horan Vale.\n\nHis workshop smelled of brass dust and cedar shavings. Every surface was covered with gears, mainsprings, half-built timepieces, and sketches of mechanisms no one else could understand. Horan was brilliant, eccentric, and increasingly forgetful.\n\nBut the forgetfulness wasn’t age.\n\nIt was grief.\n\nHis wife, Elara, had vanished twelve years ago without a trace—no note, no body, just gone, as if time had swallowed her whole.\n\nHoran never accepted it.\nHe’d been building something in secret ever since.\n\nA timefold engine.\n\nNot a time machine—he hated that phrase.\nA “timefold engine” didn’t move a person through time.\nIt folded time around a person like origami, letting them slip between layers.\n\nFor twelve years, he refined it. The machine hummed, illuminated by soft blue light. It resembled a chair wrapped in telescoping rings of bronze and shimmering metal.\n\nTonight, it was ready.\n\nHe strapped himself in.\n“Take me to the moment she disappeared,” he whispered.\n\nThe machine activated.\nReality trembled.\n\nHe opened his eyes—and he was standing in his old living room. The same afternoon sunlight. The same mantel clock ticking. And Elara, humming softly, packing an overnight bag.\n\n“Elara…” Horan whispered, voice cracking.\n\nShe froze.\nTurned.\nSmiled.\n\n“You’re early.”\n\nHe stepped forward.\n“Elara, what happened that day? Why did you leave?”\n\nHer smile faded.\n“You shouldn’t be here, Horan.”\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\nShe touched his cheek, and suddenly the world flickered like a candle.\n\n“I didn’t leave,” she said softly. “I was taken.”\n\nThe room shook. The air rippled.\n\n“Horan, listen to me,” she pleaded. “Time isn’t what you think. It’s alive—like a river with predators.”\n\nShe reached into her coat and pulled out a thin silver key.\n\n“This unlocks the moment I was dragged away. Take it.”\n\nThe house trembled violently. Walls dissolved into strands of light.\n\n“Horan!” she shouted.\nA shadow swept across the room—something vast, shifting, and impossible.\n\nElara shoved the key into his hand.\n\nThen she was ripped away by the shadow, screaming his name.\n\nHoran pressed the key to his chest as the machine yanked him back into the present.\n\nHe collapsed onto the workshop floor, gasping. The timefold engine sparked and died, smoke curling from its frame.\n\nBut the key remained in his hand.\nWarm.\nReal.\nImpossible.\n\nHe stood shakily and whispered:\n\n“Elara… I’m coming.”\n\nAnd somewhere, tucked between the folds of time, something stirred.","color":"#7a8c7a","image":"images/img_691a8a3ddcaab.png","audio":""},{"title":"Echo in the Forest ","description":"People in the village of Redwillow never entered Echo Forest.\nNot because of monsters—though children loved to whisper about them—but because of the voices.\n\nThe forest echoed back more than sound.\n\nIt echoed thoughts.\n\nMira, a restless 17-year-old with tangled hair and sharper instincts than most, didn’t believe the stories. Her brother Kalen, however, had disappeared in the forest two years earlier. The search teams found nothing—no footprints, no clothing, not even broken branches.\n\nOne autumn morning, Mira decided to enter the forest alone.\n\nThe moment she stepped past the treeline, the world shifted.\nThe air felt thick. Heavy.\nAnd then—\n\n“Mira…”\n\nShe froze.\nIt was Kalen’s voice.\nSoft. Familiar. Calling from deep between the trees.\n\nShe tightened her grip on her lantern.\n“Where are you?” she shouted.\n\nThe forest responded in perfect mimicry:\n\n“Where are you…”\n\n“No. Kalen! Answer me!”\n\nA whisper brushed her ear:\n\n“Keep going.”\n\nShe spun around—no one there.\n\nThe deeper she walked, the stranger the forest grew.\nPaths bent in impossible ways.\nTrees twisted into spiral shapes.\nPools of water reflected not her face, but scenes from her memories.\n\nHer first day of school.\nKalen teaching her to climb trees.\nThe night he disappeared, running toward the forest shouting, “I heard her! Mom’s voice!”\n\nMira knelt beside a pool.\n“Why did you follow it?” she whispered.\n\nA soft voice behind her answered:\n\n“Because it sounded like hope.”\n\nShe turned.\nKalen stood there.\nOlder. Paler. Eyes glowing faintly.\n\n“Is it really you?” she whispered.\n\n“Yes… and no.”\n\nHe stepped forward, but his feet didn’t touch the ground.\n\n“The forest echoes what we long for,” he said. “But it traps those who listen too closely.”\n\n“Then come home with me!”\n\nHe shook his head slowly.\n\n“I can’t leave. I’m part of it now. But you can.”\n\nMira reached for him.\n\nHe stepped back, fading slightly.\n\n“If you stay,” he said, “you’ll become an echo too.”\n\nHer eyes filled with tears.\n“Kalen, I came to save you.”\n\n“You already did,” he said, smiling. “You remembered me.”\n\nThe forest began to tremble.\nVoices surged all around:\n\n“Go… go… go…”\n\nKalen pointed toward the treeline.\n“Run.”\n\nMira hesitated—then sprinted.\n\nBranches clawed at her coat.\nWhispers chased her.\nHer lantern flickered violently.\n\nShe burst out of the forest and collapsed onto the grass.\nThe treeline behind her twisted silently, then grew still.\n\nFor the first time in two years, Mira didn’t cry.\n\nBecause she understood:\nKalen wasn’t lost.\nHe had become part of something ancient, something that spoke in echoes and memories.\n\nAnd sometimes, at night, when the wind passed through the trees just right, she heard his voice:\n\n“Mira… I’m still here.”","color":"#7a8c7a","image":"","audio":""}],"style":3}