Goblin draught

Welcome to Wednesday, my dudes.

I suppose Thursday arrived by now, but Wednesday remains a state of mind, a place in my heart. Wednesday remains for me the day, and on this day I give thanks to Wednesday.

Tell me if you figure out my trick this post.

But as we, in the course of endeavor, come to find that our time rolls inexorably onwards, like a high-velocity floor mat carrying us into the future, only the date and time changes. All else remains equal. We see moving lights and colors, hear the events on autoplay videos imbedded into news stories we only wanted to read, and subjugate ourselves to the merciless torment of social media. Life continues. Time changes little, and things continue. While confinement to a flat circle builds walls around us that trap and chase us through time, we never the less must fight ruthlessly and relentlessly against habit. We must battle, and we must win.

Unnatural and yet unobvious, goblins speak in this manner. That idea excites me. My next book will run with it, for the idea has potential. It requires a retcon, but authorship fails to spark joy if we prohibit ourselves from minor games. Play games with words like basketball players dribble their balls, and the twitteratee mock the world. Cry havoc and loose the dogs. Please yourself.

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