FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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He was right to worry. Anger coursing through his veins, Joe shrieked like a gibbon and oxidised pretty much everyone he knew. Looked like being an oak was a distant dream - perhap -
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My Mother loves me, yes she does/With Evil, Despair, and Hate, because/She was there with me before I was/A little tiny speck of Fuzz/ -
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Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having a lack of squid and crustaceans to eat and nothing particular to interest me in the ocean, I thought I'd leave the water and -
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t and it seemed like a constructive enterprise to wander, off-their-heads, along the coastline laughing and making marks and lines on what they would later call a map. "Not worth f -
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the differences between metaphor and the literal scope." "As in," he retorted, "I'm being figuratively henpecked by you, and literally by Sigmund's chicken." Sigmund smiled slyly.