Did you know the silence between stars has a surprisingly sharp wit?
It often compares the galaxies to grandpa's old attic—full of
junk spheres and dusty supernova debris, with black holes purring
like kittens in corners.
Last Tuesday, I overheard a whisper from Alpha Centauri,
grumbling about how quasars are just the universe's way of
playing peek-a-boo. "Nonsense!" protested a nearby neutron star,
"We're merely the universe's stellar yoga instructors!"
An awkward pause, like a comet missing its trajectory, filled
the cosmic expanse, before the silence continued:
"Your existential quips about life, unseen friend, are akin
to ants debating the sunset while carrying crumbs."
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Interlude of Ignorance