Careful now:

You must not move. No matter how much it itches, no matter how much you yearn to, you must not move. 

Let’s see where this takes you:

Prepare a vessel for a voyage into the great unknown.

You have received an invitation card with a crayon teddy bear on the front and a scrawl inside saying:

Please come to our Teddy Bear’s Picnic! Follow the map on the back to the picnic site.

Don’t forget to bring something for the bears. They need to be fed.

The view from your window shows some of your neighbour’s yard and a lot of tall trees. Sometimes, when the light is just right, you can see a glint of light off a pond. 

Tonight, you can see the glint, and it is rippling.

You go away on holiday for a couple of weeks. When you return, plants have grown wild around your home and started to reclaim it. They don’t normally grow that fast, right?

This spark is a very simple one:

An abandoned playground.

Your neighbour’s partner passes away, and you go over to pay your respects. You notice that all the mirrors in the home are covered with red cloth. It’s a tradition, they say, to give the departed soul some peace. 

Now that you think about it, you’re not sure how long those mirrors have been covered. Also, did one of those cloths just move?

A young person is murdered. There aren’t many clues and the authorities are stumped. The key piece of evidence is a note that the victim wrote shortly before their death. The problem is that it seems to change every time someone reads it.

Your new partner has a room in their home with a collection of chains in it. One day, you come over to find them wearing the chains and a startled expression.

“I can explain,” they say.