Welcome to Neighborhood Square.

I’m Chip, your informal guide, chief snacker, and the neighbor most likely to know where the cookies are.

This is where things happen slowly, loudly, or with pastries involved. The tree is older than any reasonable calendar, the paths lead everywhere eventually, and the sign means exactly what it says.

And yes, that is a cookie in my hand.

It is not a test. It is more of a welcome gift that I have shown remarkable restraint by not eating.

Come on. I’ll show you around.

The air smells like warm butter and calm chaos, which means everything is operating normally.