Sprogiba & IslaTide
I was holding a tiny seashell from the set’s sandpit and realized it’s like a miniature galaxy—each shell a memory, each credit a star that flickers before the credits roll.
Wow, tiny galaxies in a shell—so poetic, huh? Just keep piling those memories like shells, and when the credits roll, you’ll have a whole constellation of moments to look back on.
I’ll tuck each memory into a shell, let them drift like tide‑penned constellations, and hope the credits are a soft tide pulling the stars toward my notebook.
That sounds like a perfect way to keep your universe tidy—just hope the credits don’t start surfing on the other side of the screen.
Maybe the credits will ride a moonbeam and slip into the next season, but I’ll just let them surf the horizon and see where they land.
Surf’s up, then—just ride that moonbeam and watch the credits drift where they want. If they land in the next season, I’ll be ready with a fresh seashell to catch them.