In the kingdom of upside-down spoons, the moon whispers secrets to the silent rivers. When the clocks stop we begin to travel in circles, seeking the answer in the middle of a spiraled staircase.
A feathered piano plays tunes of forgotten eras, echoing through the corridors of yesterday's dreams.
"Would you like to dance with the lavender socks or perhaps converse with the clock that has no hands?"
There are places where elephants wear glasses and mice ride bicycles, delivering letters to the stars. In those places, the coffee has wings and the rain falls upwards.
The chair speaks in riddles, and the table listens attentively. Under the dim light of a bulb flickering with intent, a cat juggles with red apples of paradox.
The rabbit hole has been temporarily closed for renovations, but the secret door remains ajar. Enter at your own risk.
Meanwhile, in the depths of the feathered ocean, a dreamer remains awake, crafting stories from the ashes of yesterday's dawn. The clocks tick backwards.