Words that clumsily spill from our mouths and entangled themselves into being end up in Ordanza. They make up the bricks of buildings that will never be finished. A place where bubbling baby laughter can echo through air. Where, secrets have been made into fertilizer for flowers that never bloom. Lost thoughts hide behind corners. Some people say they can hear a woman singing. She sings a song that will make your eyes droop and become glazed like big pools of sticky honey. In Ordanza feet become light and movement is slowed. Everything moves as if it were put into a jar of jelly. Clouds dance in shapes of past events. The air is thick with incomplete ideas and desires. Ordanza is a place where nothing seems to make sense. Few people can find their way to this haven. Some fall into rabbit holes while others sleep so long they travel through dreams. Oradanza is where things that are lost, forgotten, or buried too deep in our memories slip away to.