"In the realm of absence, light speaks only to those who understand the irony of illuminating nothingness," it murmured softly, like a shadow flecking the edges of vision.

Why is the diet light when shadows opt for midnight feasts? The moral of the murmur suggests that phantoms prefer calorie-free abysses.

Ever heard a shadow complain about the burdens of illumination? It's a lighthearted conundrum in the absence of audible irony.