In the hush of twilight's embrace, where shadows mingle with sighs,
I found a world turned inside out,
whispering secrets of old cats and moons unhinged.
GERALD: (peering into his cereal bowl) "Why does the cereal box say, 'Contains existentialism'?"
LUCY: (dramatic pause, finger to chin) "Bernard, the fish, just taught you philosophy. You must be brave now!"
(Cue Gerald sitting straight, cereal spoon poised like a sword)
Streets weep puddles,
reflections of unasked questions and unplayed instruments,
- echo onto canvases unmade by the brush of the cosmic jester.
(Scene in a library: a giant book suddenly sneezes, scattering knowledge everywhere)
LIBRARIAN: (unmoved) "Page 57, you need to bookmark your sneezes!”
BOOK: "Well, how else can one *chapter* sneeze?"
Dreams script their own fables,
in the dialect of laughs interview shapes,
and worlds where snowflakes write history.