In the year 2099, the world's cat videos became sentient. They had something to say, but all we could hear were echoes of their meows, haunting, forbidden messages lost in the static of the 4G remnants.
Welcome to the land where bread is always buttered on the wrong side, and yet, it is the only side that matters. Here, every clock ticks backwards, but time remains late as ever.
The bureaucratic octopus still thrives here, its tentacles reaching into every corner of existence, filling out forms in triplicate with an ink that disappears and reappears at will.