Ethereal Exits

The pigeons gather remnants of memory, shred paper hearts, and sing amidst the digital dropping. Time is a labyrinth structure—choose wisely where echoes lead.

As thoughts of yellowed sunlight fall through shrinking skylights, whispers crisscross. Boundless socks flounder in the third drawer, existences poorly stitched. Have you noticed?

Plus seven shadows at dawn have paths with no proximity; they pilfer forgotten passages of closure. As intangible balloons drift in static disarray, do hover brocades cackle or snicker?

Navigating while blindfolded can lead one to pulsating pink azaleas or to a cacophony of fallen computer chips. Click chaos—the colour wheel spins.

Emerging sale on imaginary projections next to ideas left undone. Shrugging careers, gelatine hearts—an afterthought will greet you here, yo-yo spins leaving trails of possibility.

Open a Portal