Nebulous Dreams
In a world where umbrellas were assumed to be secretive ninja swords in disguise, the skies perpetually drizzled with lemon-flavored sunshine. Here, every pigeon carried a tiny newspaper clipped to its beak, reporting daily on the weather's existential crisis and why it should aspire to be more of an afternoon delight.
“Have you ever heard the crabs gossip?” asked Marjorie, the octopus, while juggling hermit shells. “They think the tide is a conspiracy set up by the moon to steal their pearls.”
Back on land, bubblegum trees sprouted happily as children waged peace treaties with hedgehogs over the ownership of thimble-sized kingdoms in their gardens. The secret to eternal youth, everyone agreed, lay in perfecting the art of politely declining the invitations of overly ambitious dandelion puff clouds.
Curious about the tales whispered by the seashells? (Echoes of mystery)