"Did you hear the lighthouse is made of glass?" whispered the void as it stretched endlessly,
"No, but why glass... in the fog beating white sands?"
Agatha's hat met the queen's umbrella in the corridor.
"Indeed, should we notify the clouds or the steam engine echo?"
And then the pencil scribbled away on unwritten stones,
"But what if we are the whispers, aren't we elep-phantasical?"
“Fragments of her past unravel like tapestries...”
“Do you think she remembers, or is it the route that remembers her?”
"Overheard you wish the season to spin... like a DVD in an endless loop."
"I think I'd prefer button mushrooms with my philosophy..."