In a world where fables fracture under the weight of their own morals, our protagonist, Miss Prism P. Narrate, discovers that happy endings are overrated in their splendid mundanity.
Once upon a time, which is, frankly, everywhere and nowhere, an incorporeal consumer of clichés began to challenge the syntax of her own unwritten autobiography. Miss Narrate's journey through the land of Non-Denominational, Critically Acclaimed, Metaphorical Forests confronted her with the trivial affirmations of life.
Dreams, it seems, are merely sleep's audacious art installations—interrogating their own purpose yet persistent in their mockery of lucidity.
As the coffee stains on her daily planner tangentially suggested under their cosmic interpretive dance, it's perhaps better not to know how the plot unravels. Or, in some cases, knits back together like a senile spider under a full moon.