I told them to guard the gate. I was persistent. They assured me. There were loud bangs on the gate. Those were persistent too. They were guarding the gate. There were bangs on the gate. It was all enveloped in a thick fog. Sometimes there was rain, washing the thick blanket of fog. Sometimes there was rain. Sometimes. One day, the banging stopped, forever. I searched for the guard. He allowed me one question and promised to answer truthfully and satisfactorily but in one word. I asked his name.
1 Comment
Sue Clayton
5/5/2024 06:48:58 am
I have a feeling someone should have kept their mouth closed.
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