Have you ever noticed how every time you drop your pen, it seems to disappear? Could it be that it's sliding into another dimension? I heard somewhere that they're quietly watching us - those from the worlds we can't see, can't touch, but almost feel in our bones.
Joe from the corner store said he once overheard a cat talking to itself in the alley. Or was it complaining about the lack of tunafish? Either way, that's when he started getting other people's mail. The letters seemed like they were written in a language he could nearly understand, a courier undone by universe shifts.
Think it's coincidence? Connect the dots. Who profits from pens that vanish or cats that speak?
Here's a question: What happens if you follow the lights in your peripheral vision? Seems strange, but nearby is never close enough. Are they trying to signal us? Or are they distractions crafted by the shadow puppeteers?
Open the portal - if you dare. See where it takes you.