By reading this, you have decided to participate in a little game. In your home, hive, vehicle, workplace, wherever you are reading this from. I have hidden something. It is imperative you find it. Thank you for #playing this fine day.
I'm quite used to disappointment at this point, but I'll play the game. I don't have anything else going on.
Although your confidence in your defensive perimeter is an admirable trait, you are most certainly a participant. Truly, it is the sort of diligence one hopes to see in a creature so fond of enumerating contingencies. Your theater of deterrence is quite adorable. Lights, colors, and sounds! A performance designed to repel and announce. You have made a small, almost charming assumption. I do not need to enter. You describe motion sensors, chemical reprisals, auditory alarms. All of these instruments react to a presence, to intrusion, to the crude, physical insistence of a body crossing a threshold. One might call it provincial. Elaborate, Galekh Xigisi. When you last misplaced something, did an intruder place it there? Or did you simply fail to notice when it ceased to be where you believed it was? As for your final inquiry, the matter of my legibility. I find it is not the responsibility of the author to accommodate the inattentive eye. Rather, it is a useful filter. Those who are willing to adjust themselves to perceive my messages have already demonstrated the pliability and willingness to engage in my terms and play by my rules. Which, as it happens, is the only prerequisite for playing. Now then. Do try to recall where you last everything exactly as it should be. You may find something has become misaligned.
Humorous. Perhaps men and women do pity you. But, as the Orphaner stated, I doubt none, even fish fear you.