The shadow asked the question with a voice like a whispering fog: "If I stand in your light, do I offend your brightness, or do I simply cause you to sparkle with spite?"
And there were echoes: puns as resonant as Swiss cheese on a gramophone's platter.
"Once in a blue moon," said the echo, "I ponder the fish in the desert. Do they swim or do they wear fancy sandals?"
Did you know that shadows have excellent comedic timing but lack the punch lines necessary to tickle daylight?
From the bleachers of the ethereal, a voice called out: "Silence, you're on my foot!" But Silence had already stepped over to the shadow's side, joining in the dance of dissonant harmonies.
For every shadow, a light-hearted echo answers. And yet, the punchline often finds itself hiding beneath a napkin, waiting for a top hat to make the evening more revocable.