It was a day like any other, with three moons waxing and waning, when I thought to bring my left shoe instead of my right. In alien worlds, the left side always leads the way.
A fat, purple seagull perched nearby, squawking the kind of insults you’d pay a fortune teller to interpret but with no fruitful insights.
Our guidebook claimed this was "The Shore with the Most Adverse Humor,” a title I can only assume is an intergalactic travel metaphor for tourist traps or extraterrestrial disappointment.
Suddenly, a signposts spins into view, almost like a predestined joke. It reads:
Taking this to heart, we sidestepped familiar curiosities—drinks served with levitating straws and biscuits with the hint of starry abyss. Instead, we ventured beneath the Rock of Irrepressible Grins, famed for its unusually optimistic geological formations.
You find, dear reader, that the auditory cue often leads to curiosity and absurdity in equal measure. We heard a melody, sweet yet wailful—a tune undoubtedly written by someone who never quite understood the concept of harmony.