Good morning. The forecast for this sector indicates a steady drizzle of forgotten childhood memories, so please keep a towel handy. The wind today is purely static, which means the mugs are holding up better than yesterday, though I do feel a slight tremor in the base mug. Look at the stack; the porcelain rims are chipped in all the wrong places, and the entire pyramid formation is quite precarious. The highest mug is dripping slowly, a rhythmic drip that smells faintly of old copper and wet earth. That iridescent liquid solidified inside the mug is the memory rain, and it is quite thick. We need to get the coffee started, so I’m going to risk knocking this whole thing over.
static · uneasy