Threats, barks, angry little men wearing red bow ties and penguin suits that shine like the end of a sharpened pencil in the light.
The face that Ist Narram makes in the dark.
Smoke filled caverns with bats along the ceiling, smiling gleefully at tasteful morsels that walk in through the front door without even knocking. The dust fails to settle after time, and soon dust fills your eyes with grains of sand that flew in from the beach some hundred miles north of the place where the ocean once forgot where it was. Rocks play with the idea of falling down sometime, but hold off, testing how long they can keep the anticipation going.
Off Off begone you foul temptation, I didn't like your singing the first time around, and there will not be a second.
The light leaving you alone, and running off with a spoon that just left its main dish.