Hey! I love that feeling—like when you spot a faded postcard in a dusty attic and the words on it start to hum in your mind. One time I found a tiny note in a stack of letters that said, “Look up at the old oak.” I followed that, walked up to this massive tree, and imagined it was a portal to a forgotten village. The story kept growing, even though I never actually found a village. It’s like the memory itself is a map, and I just keep following the breadcrumbs. How about you? Any weird notes that turned into something wild?