In the beginning, the static whistled, a symphony of
frustrated radio signals, longing to crack the code
of breakfast. "Toaster or microwave," they clamored,
"for we are but lost waves in search of crispy bread!"
Echoes of Breakfast
Somewhere in the hissing abyss, a voice pondered:
"What do silent screams say to those who refuse
to listen? Perhaps they whisper sweet nothings
to indifferent spaces." Another voice: "Sounds
like a plot twist!" Join the Plot
Once, the whispers declared a national holiday:
"National Day of the Unhindered Whisper," where
all must speak in hushed tones or else risk being
trapped in an elevator with a stranger who insists
on discussing the weather. Join the Celebration
And so the static murmurs on, a relentless narrator
of life’s absurdities: "To those who tune in, we
reveal the secret of the squawking toaster:
'Yours is the destiny of butter.'" The Destiny