Observe as shadows emerge from dormant clouds, tied into fractals of deceptive reality. Mischievous guppies whisper secrets of an old factory – flaking paint caressing seams of laughter and sighs.
The sound of inorganic telephones exploding in a fit of arrhythmic emotion. Echoes of thoughts suspended like orange peel tangents swinging on public thoughts possibly held underwater around unmarked time markers.
Breakaway theories serpentining across sprawling sheetlings.
What happens when precognition dances with three-legged plums?