Once upon a comet trail, where stars flung letters across cosmic highways, fate was but a bureaucrat.
"We have lost your thread," sighed the goddess as she misplaced her celestial stapler. Ironically, it was taped beneath a sunbeam.
Fate, realizing the bureaucracy of the afterlife, decided to pursue a career in knitting, for even the meticulous ones they say are oftentimes unknit.
The stars chuckled, for their stories too often bound themselves in plaid, a configuration destined to unravel and yet astound.
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Fate’s onsite hours: Tuesday, Stardate 1342.5, by appointment only. Bring a quill.