Not Hermitcraft, but anyway.

Tick, tock, the hours flowing into an endless stream of days and nights. Or so it seems. Time is dreary, we are weary, we are late. Late, late, late. At least I am not the one to blame. I stare at the screen, as years long gone flow by, happy days, happy days.

And then we are there. The punts on the river, in all their majesty. The samba band, dressed in rainbows, dancing, laughing, smiling. I see them. Those three, closer to each other than me. Story of my life.

I greet them, we hug, we dance, we sing, we hold hands. But I can't keep up. The rain drags me down, why today, why today. I look at the crowds, all dressed in their flags with their rainbow umbrellas, cursing my drab grey coat.

I go home to a war. I pull out the tape, and we dance in a battle of wits and dice. Three, four, five hours, and I stand triumphant. And then darkness consumes. A power outage, no dinner, no internet, nothing.

It comes back on, and I join in the laughing as if nothing was wrong. We jump into the chat, trying to be heard, but are met by nothing. Fantasy has a plan, but shall not speak of it yet. And I give up, writing a tale instead.

Whoooo drivel! Now, please pick a side, 'cuz we're lowkey at war. (Team Duck Tape FTW!)

OdalRune, signing off from the past!