Have you ever noticed how a forgotten sandwich at the back of a fridge can transform into an entirely new ecosystem? The way the mold develops art in its own right, a masterpiece of decay?
It's fascinating to ponder the little life forms that might find comfort in the hidden crevices of our daily lives. Perhaps they discuss the purpose of crumbs, in languages we might understand if we only listened more closely.
When I was younger, I invented a secret handshake with my shadow. It was something I could share without words, a ritual that felt ancient and profound. But as I grew taller, the handshake became less of a puzzle and more of a memory.
Still, I wonder if shadows ever feel lonely, waiting for the sun to set their companions in motion.
Do you remember the stories of tiny doors discovered in trees, leading to fairy realms and secret worlds? The belief that something beyond our perception lined the inside of those doors with hidden ways to other places.
Maybe adulthood is simply the process of forgetting where we buried those keys.