A large, corked glass bottle, filled with a toy model of a boutique storefront, complete with tiny figurines of shoppers.

Love is a brilliant melody, a chorus of celestial voices rising together in tender harmony. A joyous heart cannot help but join the song.

If the future is based on the acts of people, then perhaps you can knit the threads of fate.

People fail to see old women. We blend into the background, even as matchmakers.

Somewhere in the world, a snail is crawling toward you. It is unstoppable. It is unkillable. Its touch is instant death.