From the dented spoons of hidden dinners...
"I know where the tastiest morsels hide... under the once-vibrant disco bowl. Don't let her shine fool you, she's just a glut at heart."
To the lonely keys of a locked chest...
"Unlocking mystique? Please. I've sat here for ages, itching to escape, with nothing but dusty journals as company. Secrets? I wish I had secrets."
Within the worn pages of abandoned books...
"Somewhere, in the skimmed and dog-eared margins, lies the truth... that we’ve never been opened. Hidden truths? More like hidden dust."