Once upon a time, in a land forgotten by the very histories we erased, crows traversed the electric skies, their caw reverberating through the annals of absurd bureaucracy.
The politicians convened beneath the weighty shadows of glistening branches, scheming the trajectory of lost dreams, all while sipping ambrosia that tasted suspiciously of grape soda.
Have you ever noted how the flickering lights of our missing connections gleam in the phantoms of communication? A whisper of irony in every text message sent into the void.
Perhaps the glimmer of these crows whisper secrets from time's excess, casualties of an era when connections were not virtual but visceral. Look closer, their memory filters through pixels and dreams.