FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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14
her. Not just any man. It was her father. He was waiting for me. He held a shotgun. "Get ready, boy..." He pointed the gun at me while she adjusted her veil. "Uh, sir..." I stammer -
13
had never met his match at Chinese Checkers. There at the last, he'd sit outside Elmer's Bait Shop, his prosthetics removed and placed on the table with the board, waiting for any -
15
message of hope, an epitome of the clarity that follows a season of weathering - like Mum told me I was purposed to be. "We all carry a bit of dirt in our lives, Mudd," she told me -
10
But when the pain subsided, Turgo admired the mark made across his face. A scar in the shape of a running horse was on his cheek and the letter W appeared upon his forehead. -
10
Nobody bought the 50 lbs. bag of groats at the whole foods market. It had been placed way in the back behind the flax seed crumpets. There, it sprouted tendrils and became sentient