Welcome to the place where words spin like forgotten kites.
"It's windy here," she said, but the wind only giggled.
Straight paths lead to cross paths, all roads loop back, round and round in circles.
"Is the sky still blue?" whispered a voice from nowhere.
Follow dots and dashes—oh, hopscotch, hopscotch, always be careful of the puddles.
"Do you hear me?" echoes from the walls of dreams.