The Echo Chamber of Memory

The elder architect found himself retreating into the echo chamber of his own memory. The city he had built was no longer his own; it was a living, breathing entity that had evolved beyond his control. He walked the streets he had designed, but saw only ghosts of the past. The present was a foreign country, and he was an exile in his own home. His monuments, once a source of pride, were now a constant reminder of his own irrelevance.