In the corridors of forgotten alleys, where whispers intertwine with shadows, lies an anecdote of such profound mystery:
Once, a chicken crossed the road, not to reach the other side, but to discover its inner yolk.
In response, the universe shrugged; "one does not simply poach destiny," it quipped.
Consider the origami crane, crafted in the dead of night under a crescent moon... only to be used as an impromptu umbrella, for destiny had other plans.
Whispering Secrets