The Archer left his pack behind. I examined his quiver.
It contained just one arrow. There was something wrong with it... tiny insects covered its surface. With little blue flashes of light they would vanish & reappear.
"Time flies." I whispered in horror.
"And?" Said the Archer. He had returned! Silently, he loomed in the door. "There is little I can do." He explained. "Time flies *like* an arrow."
[I run from the room, instinctively ducking the oncoming barrage of rotten vegetables.]
myrmepropagandist
npub1cp…uhrnq
2023-08-06 20:47:31 UTC
Author Public Key
npub1cp2pgntkzkpqa23rytnchggwzywyggvst9yzkgd6w8j349ef7s9shuhrnqPublished at
2023-08-06 20:47:31 UTCEvent JSON
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