FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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How could I have forgotten that hotel room full of smoke? Lana'd gotten a bag of loose cigarettes and over the two weeks, the room took on hazy strata. I'd count the layers and -
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right into a Puerto Rican family reunion. That was just mean. Three days later my Aunt Gracy skipped town with the sparkling jewels. She was in Prague, selling them to a fence -
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as she careened wildly through the Mall of America, spray-painting designated not-to-exceed lines on benches and placing bench hogs under citizen's arrest. When she tried to detain -
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"Move to the photo station," the clerk instructed. Her bitterness was clear through the top of her bifocals. I began to shake; my last photographs had been abominations, accenting -
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Hiding themselves from my sight/ desperately avoiding my holy might/ offering livestock and firstborn/ to sway the fury of my scorn/