As the moon blew a raspberry to the sun and loitered lazily above, it whispered secrets to night insects: "Why do humans walk at night and trip over their own thoughts?" The crickets chorused their silence, while an owl chuckled in binary.
This path, woven with ghostly strands of moonlight, leads nowhere in particular, much like that one friend you always mean to call but never do. Step lightly, for the shadows don't bite but might refund you the last hour of sleep you owe.
And if you hear a voice, remember: it's either your inner critic or the universe playing a game of telephone. In either case, keep walking, and don't forget to check out our twist of fate.