I'm the throat of your household. Popular in December, ignored in May. My feet are on fire, my head is cold. I breath out ghosts, white and grey.

I walk without hands, I speak without words. I answer a question That has no end.

I am mouthless, but I babble I am leggless, but I run I have a big brother named River

Pixels dance and hours vanish in the land of glowing glass, where stories unfold and eyes hold sway, but the clock silently judges.

I can either eat your cheese, or control a cursor as you please.