"Ordinary Objects, Extraordinary Days"

In a world just a step sideways from ours, everyday objects live lives of their own-walking, speaking, remembering, and dreaming. They do not fight wars or chase glory. Instead, they navigate the fragile, beautiful absurdity of existence: friendships, rituals, passing time, and the inevitability of decay.
Each object carries its own history and vulnerabilities-glass cracks, paper wrinkles, plastic yellows, metal rusts. Some are timeless, others fragile; food spoils, while steel lingers for centuries. The story lingers in this imbalance, exploring what it means to live fully when permanence is never guaranteed.
At the center is a sprawling ensemble: a sugar packet sealed with celestial thread who smells of powdered moonlight, a pastel lollipop who leaves trails of sparkles in conversation, a cracked vanity mirror obsessed with beauty's rot, a haunted error dialog box glitching through nostalgia, and dozens more. Their aesthetics clash and shimmer together-shimmercore, glitchcore, celebrationcore, contaminationcore-like an eternal festival of broken beauty.
There are no battles to win, only days to fill:
Some objects work in shops or archives, curating fragments of memory.
Some drift in plazas, fountains, or half-real dreamscapes, searching for meaning.
Some rebel against inevitability, refusing to fade quietly.
All of them feel, each in ways only their fragile material allows.
Through their conversations, rituals, and small acts of care (or cruelty), the narrative examines themes of impermanence, identity, connection, and quiet rebellion against obsolescence. Serious undertones-like permadeath for fragile objects, or the slow fading of those made to be disposable-coexist with humor, tenderness, and surreal celebration.
It is not a story of still life, but of motion: an exploration of how ordinary things build extraordinary days when the world itself feels unfinished.