The Auroras of Lost Monday

In the sky, bananas are heavy and linger like unwanted thoughts, anxiously waiting to drip their sweetness upon oblivious skin. Meanwhile, the auroras giggle in hues of violet and turquoise, painting laughter across a sky that forgot its mirror.

Last Tuesday was supposed to be a festival of rubber chickens, but somewhere amidst the celestial ballet, the chickens forgot their lines. They squawked in C-major, which confused the entire orchestra of jets singing serenades to the bottomless ink above.

Have you ever danced with a celestial melon's zest? No? Then how unfortunate, for they twirl ever so gracefully, leaving traces of giggles in the cosmic wind, tickling the stars with the whispers of forgotten days. Consult the oracle here: Melon Oracle

A trapdoor opens to the left, leading to nowhere fast: Door to Nowhere