As I sat alone on my Aunt’s porch, pondering the mysteries of existence, listening to the melodious sounds of tires screeching the pavement and car horns honking off in the distance, I realized that the mug of coffee that I had recently brewed had vanished from the coffee table where I was convinced I had placed it. After searching for what seemed like an eternity, I discovered my hollow, sad-looking coffee mug perched upright beside some withering daisies. Right beside my mug, I noticed a small pool of coffee that seemed unusual somehow, and a few inches away, I spotted a suspicious-looking pile of acorns and twigs. I felt alone, and confused. I looked up at the great old oak tree that hovers ominously over my Aunt’s house, in the hopes of finding more clues, but the culprit was nowhere to be found…


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