FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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A Poem About My Mother - Humble,sweet,but often dreary/My mother is a soulless fairy/Beneath her lips,color of cherry/Three blackened teeth,a tongue so hairy/ -
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"The apocalypse was actually yesterday!"I checked my window to see if the sun was still shining.Yup, still shining. No zombies either.But wait--why was that bird flying backwards?! -
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chest (which seemed suspiciously gooshy, but it turned out he had spilled some mustard on it at lunch). But neither Jimbeau or Flopp would admit to knowing what a Cleveland Steamer -
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soup all over Dame Whitty. She remained calm. "I hear,: she said wiping soup off her face, "that soup bathes are good for the skin." I couldn't bare her politeness. "Waiter how cou -
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washed-up blue whale where it's teeth served as ornaments pinned up around the hovel. Everyday I looked out on the green, rocky terrain and wondered how it got here to begin with.