Once in a cerulean thrift shop, a pair of octopuses debated the price of a pearl.
Underneath the forgotten clock tower, time tarried alongside an assembly of forgotten memories, weaving the fabric of unsaid dreams into a cloak.
Three wayward ions once danced; they defied gravity, tradition, and unfortunately, quantum principles.
Why did the secretary keep jellyfish at her desk? To remind her that currents always had purpose.