"Why I write Folding Story:" I write Folding

"Why I write Folding Story:" I write Folding Story because there's no more Thilo Savage to read and I don't know how to publish the 4-5 books I've already written. Also depression.

Somehow writing on Folding Story, well, it sort of delays my depression. Nothing in my life is really fixed or changed. But while I'm writing on Folding Story I don't seem to

be constrained by the mundane drudgery of my cubicle hamster cage existence. I am flying with cleavage monkeys, bashing zombie grandmas, an astute corsair of the Wordverse. Folding

time; folding space; folding the very fabric of the time/space continuum. These things were nothing compared to the power of folding stories. I wrapped my cloak tighter and plunged

my finger into the light socket. The ensuing shock was enough to fully power up my mechanical exosuit, and the surge breakers stopped the electricity from harming me. I stood up

& switched on the exosuit's night vision, the surge having blacked out the entire building. I could hear the short screams and murmuring of confused office workers in the dark, and

he armed the mechs anti-personell devices. In the darkness, he moved swiftly past the snack room to accounting. That's where they would strike. The sprinkers kicked in. It started.

And quickly ended. Wacky Watergun Wednesdays was a colossal failure- who knew filling an office of IT nerds with personally modified water cannons and trebuchet balloon launchers

would turn out in trip to the local pub. Each person had 4 or 5 drinks, and after that they were made completely useless. So then they went by the liquor store and thats where

they became extremely drunk, but being drunk was their secret power. When they were all drunk they could save mankind. Which they have done before, they just couldn't remember it.