Once upon a forgotten whisper, a shadow sneezed in the empty corridors of our minds. The echo reverberated, almighty and unexpected, sending shivers down every spine that wasn’t there. At least, those that are still waiting for the laundry to be folded.
Ever heard a shadow shuffle? It’s like trying to catch a foggy apparition at midnight, only to find it has cloaked itself in a rather fetching discount cape. Not all luminescence wears a crown, as the saying goes.
And there it lurks again, that rascal of an unseen roommate, borrowing imaginary sugar and leaving behind a pronounced indentation in the seat of another existential crisis. One day, we’ll confront this specter of domesticity with nothing but a stern look and a misplaced collection of PBS special episodes.
So, dear reader from the depths of the ether, as you wander these labyrinthine threads of enigma and digital breadcrumbs, remember to leave a note in the registry of absent minds. Perhaps a drawing of a tomato wearing glasses would suffice.