An inexplicable cosmic oddity has sparked a poetic storm. This morning, the soft clocks of our world began to weep drops of thyme instead of their usual ticking.
The alarm clock rang, not with the familiar chime, but with a gentle herbaceous scent wafting in the air. The clocks, once faithful guardians of time, seem to have transformed overnight into sentient beings, crying tears of aromatic herbs. This morning, or perhaps an eternity or only a second ago, we discovered that space was filled with milk and hours hung from invisible threads, giving us the impression of living in a constantly moving Salvador Dali painting.
Astronomers, too, have observed unprecedented phenomena: a milky cosmos instead of our usual starry sky. The thick milky layer floating above our heads diffuses soft, iridescent lights, plunging the world into a permanent twilight. Even the sun has adopted a milky glow, seeming to float like a ball of butter in the middle of this vast celestial ocean.
“This is not a change, it’s a metamorphosis!” exclaims world-renowned artist, Alessandra Cauliflower. “We have entered a new chapter of the absurd where time and space are sublimated, a dimension where the tangible and intangible make love in broad daylight!”
Despite the palpable absurdity of this situation, life continues its course as if nothing was amiss. Children go to school, birds sing their morning melodies, and trains arrive with startling precision. Perhaps absurdity has become our new normal, and in this universe where clocks weep and time breathes through the pores of the milky infinite, we are all artists, painting our reality in an impossible, eternal symphony of color. Or perhaps time is just a measure of milk that we pour into the grand eternal bowl of life.
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