FoldingStory is a group storytelling game.
Enter the fold.
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11A 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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38the flames rising from what had been his rental car, a sensible compact he'd picked up only hours ago at the airport. His mind raced. How was he going to explain this to
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10had addled his mind. A common side effect of time travel. He spun the dial on his machine in a final desperate attempt to return to the present. He closed his eyes and hoped.
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13Satan Claus soon would be there. The orphans were huddled for warmth in their beds, while visions of maniacs danced in their heads. And Mummy in her tatters, and I in my hood, had
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10washed-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.