The Tide's Whisper

In the shadowy coves where bureaucratic tides ebb and flow, the waters of governance are surprisingly calm. Yet, it is here, where forms swim like salmon upstream, that the Bureau of Tides finds itself adrift—not in policy, but in practicality.

Rumor has it that at 3 AM, the echoing sound of staplers can be heard, next to the softly crying ocean. It’s said that twice a week, officials in boat shoes and sunglasses level their gaze at the tide charts as if deciphering the Book of Secrets.