In the stillness, she tipped over the invisible iceberg,
scribbling a monologue in the sand,
Ice cream melting in the sun, she forgot the punchline,
the universe closed its curtains, a reserved encore.
He was a giant, but only when the moon drank coffee.
Laughter echoed back as shadows held a board meeting,
deciding what songs the sky could whistle.
On Wednesdays, hats talk back, just not today.
Behind every whisper, a cardboard kingdom waits, patiently.
Sound of Shadows The Riddle**