At the juncture where reality and happiness meet, briefly, sits the secret to the universe. It hides beneath the layers of expectation, trampled on by steps too eager to pause for a brief moment to pay attention to what has fallen into disuse.
At one time it had been wrapped in fabric, to be kept safe and clean, but long ago the fabric began to break down. It absorbed rain, and oil, and blood. It decayed, leaving the secret vulnerable.
And this is where the secret has stayed, for all these long and weary years. But one day soon the secret will tire of being crushed beneath imagined structures and morals, and it will rise up, naked of its protective fabric, but no longer content to remain a secret.