There is little we’re allowed to say about ______, but what we can
divulge may usurp your mind when least expected. Usually, it’s
while you’re dreaming in the dead of night, or the buzz of day, or
even when leaning your head on a shoulder, hoping for affection.

______ often finds items hidden in space. No, not the space.
______ finds said items tucked between the pockets of reality. As
a collector, ______ is inherently able to reach these places, but
you, even after naming yourself a collector, can never locate them.
Made of strong emotion, they’re footprints left behind by your
soul — whether pulled apart or warmed by the warmest of hearts. You
may catch a sparkle, a glimpse of their birth, but once they fully
form, you can never see them again.

If you asked ______ how many pockets of reality there are, __ would
shrug and say, “___’_ ____.  ________ _____ _____ .”

______ has disclosed a sample of a list of items found thus far.
The ratio of list-item to item-actually-found is 1:2,347. Please be
informed they now belong to ___, so if you recognise your emotive
states in any item, please understand that finders are absolutely
keepers.

1. An _________ thumb with a purple thread around each _____ ____;
   place: fashion show.

2. The only other _____ in existence; slightly damaged; place:
   dropped in an old lab.

3. One concealed cumulonimbus the size of a ______ ant’s ____;
   place: the underside of ____’s car.

4. The glove that only fits those screaming at their ___; place:
   tree branch.

5. Barely used guttural ______ spun around a yellow feather; place:
   a distrustful lover’s bed.

When you find yourself lost, don’t like being in love, or realise
(no) work can upend your life, be kind to ______ as she emerges to
collect your soulprints.