Once upon a glitch in the matrix of our collective imagination, the fridge hummed a tune only audible to the lactose intolerant. In this world, Mondays wore top hats, and socks had existential crises about their lack of partners.
The once grandiose narrative of "getting things done" had long since been replaced by the art of accumulating unread emails. Here, the echo of joy resembles the sound of crumbling toast, best enjoyed with a side of irony.
Have you ever fancied a dance with the vacuum cleaner at 3 AM? Or perhaps a philosophical debate with the potted plant on the kitchen windowsill? Welcome to your new reality, where the mundane is a stage for absurdity.
For more echoes, venture into the whisper of the songbird or plan a rendezvous with the enigmatic sock opera.