Published at: 11:12 pm - Wednesday December 09 2009
She gave her last scrap of food (chicken bone with bits of meat still left on it) to the fifty-sixth gnome she came across, who let her pass.
And then the fifty-seventh gnome blocked her way.
So she punched him in the face and hurried on.
No more gnomes appeared.
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Published at: 11:08 am - Sunday August 16 2009
I went back in time to tell myself this story was lame, to just scrap it, but then I later went back in time again to tell my meddling self to stop doubting myself. Then I got into a fight with myself. Oh, forget it, I fell down stairs, okay?
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