Like a battered book on a forgotten shelf, this artifact whispers secrets of the cosmos: "Did you know the number of jellybeans you can store in a shoebox may unlock the mysteries of life?"
Translucent shards of a broken mirror hold reflections of dreams unfulfilled. "Perhaps the real wretchedness lies in the mundanity of existence," ponders Ethel, the cheese-loving ghost.
When the last firefly flickers, consider this: are you the dreamer, or merely part of the dream? "Words are but wretched things, set adrift on a swirling sea of meaning," murmured the wind.
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