The whispering walls echo thoughts not intended for this moment. A cat meows in disjointed rhythm, as if summoning the ghosts of unsaid words. Coffee stains the table of forgotten ideas, each ring a portal round the mundane spirits that linger, invisible yet palpable.
A glowworm flickers overhead, suspended in time—a talisman of wandering memories. Monsters of bureaucracy parade in solemnity, their laughter recoiling within the throes of worn-out file cabinets. What if the paper cuts could talk? Would they scold for not paying attention?
Beyond the breakroom window, the moon hangs crooked, a joke crafted by nature. "Delirium!" it screams, cradling chaos like an old friend. The chalk-refined symbols of reality become blurry hieroglyphs.
A swirl of playful confusion—clownfish in a desert, wishing for rain.