When dusk falls, the fading voice of echoes untangles secrets from walls forgotten by time:

"I am the drawer," whispers the wooden entity, "Secret keeper of love letters never sent, begging for freedom, letter by letter."

A whisper from the carpet spills: "Underneath, hidden relics of dust bunnies, molded narratives only I dare tell, truths you don't seek."

The mirror laughs, distorting reality: "Behind my glassy facade lies a dimension of untamed reflections, harsh truths in beauty's disguise."

Listen closely there or here.