FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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This Christmas, I asked myself a very important question: "Has anything about me changed? Why do I still hate the world? And where's the turkey?" But this time, it'll be different. -
12
twisted coils around his feet as he crept out of bed for a midnight snack. The ghostly felines pounced and purred after hovering over a bowl of milk. Turgo took charge -
10
("Damn! That's some good writing there!" I said to myself.) The cries of the lost children blended with the wind, lost on the ears of the swamp-forest hunters, who searched in vain -
16
to deal with the constant rashes. I can tell that I'm doing the right thing because the crystal that my soul doctor has me rub is staying the right shade of pink. Of course I don't -
10
wiggled its whiskers and chirped. "There's one in the den," I said. "Just be careful and don't get your nuts stuck between the cushions." The squirrel took a drag from its stogie.