Other Worlds Light

Welcome To Your Nostalgia Trip

Are those your grandmother's roasted journals in the oven? Or the smell of Quantum smoke in long-forgotten cupboards? Fret not, the arbitrary actions here repeat like clockwork that absconds time.

• The day I bought 17 umbrellas during a solar eclipse.
• My dog learned calculus and promptly vanished.
• Bananas whispering secrets in the late afternoon sun.

Find yourself repeating those lines from that Shakespearean telegraph. Signs of the modern age misadapting archaic devices amongst dust drawn diagrams on radiational physics in the absence of pure imaginary beef stew.

Employee of the Month

Meet Bob, the office stapler who prevents Wednesdays from ever being truly realized. Hats off to him, for he steadfastly holds together everything critical to avoid.