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November 13, 2019 - 294 words
“Catchin’ up catchin’ up catchin’ up!!” a man shouted in the streets of Gilba Gilba. He was shouting to no one. He had no one to hear him. It was not a concern.
Hem Slonnigum sloshed through the rain and mud and GRIME of the Autumn Storms. We’re well aware this scene has nothing to do with the fantasy aspect of Assol nor will it be exhibiting any sort of EXPANSION on the fantasy aspect of Assol AND it won’t really have much imagination. Look that’s what you get when you slam out a hundred of these things you get a little stale all right? You get a little burnt out especially when you’re behind a few days and have to —
“CATCH UP CATCH UP CATCH UP!!” The man or woman can’t remember from two paragraphs ago screamed into the wind, the void, the endless howl of the Autumn Storm.
FOR INDEED DID THE AUTUMN STORMS bring out these rather alarming character traits in the quaint ol’ residents of Gilba Gilba. Something about their ferocity dug deep into their settled souls and stirred ‘em up. Stirred ‘em up into a frenzy.
Hem was not immune to this but he also did not care. So he did not mind a bit o’ wind blowin’ here ’n there. He gripped his grip tight on his grippin’ stick and held out. He glimpsed Glen Blomgrin staggerin’ through the streets as well, head bent down and hand in front of his face like some sorta poxy moxy in the Summer.
Summer was long past but ol’ Glen didn’t think so, walkin’ out there into the Storm without so much as a cloak to cloak hisself from the beast of the weather. We’ll be wrappin’ this up now.