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It took some debating to come up with the title of this thread. I have learned a fair bit from ROaTNO and WN, so I endeavor, with this new thread, to weave an embroidered cloth. One with less flaws, although it doesn't hurt to try something new.

Reference to the "Imaginarium" is almost an in-joke. However, I herewith introduce a new idea, one that is most certainly not novel but challenges the concept of the meta-term. This isn't the Imaginarium. This is the Phantasmagorium. No Children Under Eleventeen Admitted. If you are under eleventeen, leave now.

An Introduction

Silent serenades. Troublesome sighs. Solace in surreal ambience. A desired truth. A dose to dote, to dope, the wayward soul. It only works if you believe it would, sir, mister. Galatea? No, I do not know her name. Lindra, I think she is. Yes, sweetish. Ambrose? What's he to do with this? The supple wine of the nectar peach with rose hip tea would do. We drink a sip to drug our health. Our hearth? No, health. Oh, let him in, Letum's solemn twin. What worse could he do than what I have, such sombre song? I shall slip peacefully for once, sound and somnial some. Eos shall do what she does and I shall wake when it is done. So long imagined sun, the bull waits with you between its horns to enter into Lore.

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