In the bleak brightness of moonscape, she captured more than sleep's nightmares— the echoes of coyote tape delay, right jokes, wrong punchlines.
"Let it go," they said. But what is bureaucracy, if not an ocean of sticky mind gum trapping anecdotes with the Elegance of a Dance Dance Debugging Revolution?
Somewhere, the audience clapped but stopped—tannoyed by their own time loops. New horizons unfold cautiously and the moonscape yawns past its celestial coffee break.