Ever stared at... well, you know, those little dots in the sky? They twinkle, like they have secrets to share but just choose to blink at you instead. Imagine if they could talk. "Hey, down here! We’re tangled stories of time!" Wouldn't that be something?
Coffee? Under the stars, everything tastes different. Like sipping on liquid stardust. Suddenly your thoughts dance like fireflies, and the night pulls at your sleeve, whispering constellations. Which way is up again?
Remember that time you tried to count them? The stars, I mean. Lost count around 23, then started making up names: "That one's Jim, and look, there's the Great Caffeinator!" A constellation of daydreams under a canopy of infinity.