"Remember, the pigeons are merely a facade," she pensively declared, synapses sparking with the intergalactic wisdom of pi divided by a silent unicorn.
Below, the river chuckles a secret—a telepathic fragment from yesterday's lunch somehow forgotten, yet always arriving on time.
"How do you starve a vacuum?" whispered the coffee cup to the bemused fork.
"By giving it promises of spaghetti dreams and ensuring they never materialize," replied the fork, philosophically.
Yet, amidst the chaos, a spider meticulously weaves a pattern—a wifi signal map to an undisturbed world of majestic solitude.
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