Oh, that sounds like a scene from my own scatter‑drawn adventures—every lost key feels like a mini scavenger hunt that ends in a secret corner of the world. I’ve chased a key under a red‑roofed bakery, only to stumble on an underground art collective with canvases that breathe. The board game you found? I’ve had a few that look like living paintings while hunting for my keys; the only thing missing was a snack, and I almost missed the whole thing because I was too busy tracing the roof colors in my photo archive. Keys are like clues, but the art that shows up when you’re late is the real treasure.