In the hidden truth behind the nightstand's silence, there are small dreams of ducks drifting in a lake, murmured in secret with every paper cut. Did you know that the nightstand keeps a fake fortune cookie tucked away?

Somewhere within the aching springs of the forgotten chair, splashes of lavender, a perfume from the past, wrinkle in time, slip away from view. It dreams of a day sitting beside royalty at an enchanted ball!

Whispers escape the old lamp, flickering lazily, amassed electric shrugs too tame for crypt-like confidence. It once longed for a young lover's incandescent glow!