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November 01, 2019 - 196 words
Another night in another Gilba Gilba establish. We haven’t been to Teevee’s Tavern yet and truth be told if we’re tellin’ the truth here things are gettin’ a little outta control. Can’t really keep this thing on the rails. It’s got a life o’ its own and that’s just fine, thought Farmer Gack as he pulled on his t’backer. Things unfold as they were meanin’ to from the beginning, but often that beginning didn’t seem so clear till the end o’ things was nigh.
Gack never thought hisself much of a philsophizin’ type but the Autumn Storms put everyone in a right thoughtful disposition indeed they did.
Teevee’s Tavern was a hangout for those sorta folk who didn’t need the comfortable social feel o’ Blom’s carefully cultivated atmosphere. Ya came on over to Teevee’s to have a think or two. Maybe you met your favorite lass over there in the lassin’ corner, but not Gack. Not at his age. Maybe when he was 40 years his own junior he coulda seen hisself do somethin’ like that. Or maybe not. He had lived in Gilba Gilba his entire life and if nothin’ changes, it’s a man’s ways.