On the twelfth day

Matters have become exceedingly strange in these latter stages of the quarantine. Upon venturing into the seldom visited nooks and crannies of my domicile, I have chanced upon new and unfamiliar items previously unbeknownst to me. I described these peculiar new discoveries to my cohabitants, who did not recognize said items even as I laid out their aspects at great length. Mere moments later, upon conducting an ocular inspection of my exotic acquisitions, they made it known that a distant acquaintance, referred to colloquially as “aunt Martha”, had ceremoniously bestowed these peculiarities to our abode during the annual celebration of the birth of one member or another of the household. Heavily implied in this assertion was the fact that it was common knowledge that these objects had indeed been in place all along, and that the only confusion in these matters was caused by my overly ornate and quixotic verbiage on the subject matter. Perhaps, the smaller one of them concluded capriciously, we had – hypothetically, perchance, mayhaps – been “cooped up” in here ever so slightly too long, facilitating the initiation of a gradual decline of our (meaning my) mental capacities. This, if true, would be an exciting development indeed, for what could be more interesting and open-ended than the discovery of a brand new self to delve into and discover anew? I do so hope that the quarantine will find reason to be extended, allowing me further possibilities to extend these investigations. The truth, surely, is in here somewhere

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