Author: Greg R. Fishbone

“My beamish boy! Hast thy vorpal blade slain the Jabberwock, thy manxome foe, in yon tulgey wood?” “Skibidi,” the boy demurred. 19/365

The angel peeredover my shoulderand urged meto clickanother link.They haveonline distractionsin Heaven,but no Wikipedia. 18/365

Noobie mistake, pairing my Cloak of Invisibility with +3 Boots of Squeakiness. 17/365

You’re lucky I found you in these lightless tunnels where a monster lurks, or so I’m told. I have strength enough to keep us safe while you tell stories of your world beyond these walls, where men and cows roam grassy fields under broad blue skies, free, as I long to be! 15/365

When a silence falls in the forest and no one is around to hear, does a tree sacrifice itself to fill the awkward void? 14/365

The Sun is dust on fire. The Moon is dust on ice. The Earth is a dusty ball        with a dusty web        of dust-based life. We are the dust that learns               to think,                       to speak,        to dream. 12/365

The coaster returns to the platform. Eyes bleary, voice weary, the operator croaks, “All done, sir?” “Again,” I tell him. “Again, and this time add another loop!” 11/365

A man built a machine that turned paper to gold, sparking revolutions of science, of religion, of thought, dragging the world from Dark Ages to Now, when Gutenberg lost his printing press to venture capitalists. 10/365

“Take me out to the ballgame,” Caroline urged her beau, and off they go; Season tix. All through the first six Caroline screams for the hometown crew. Down by two, but in inning seven they score eleven! Caroline stands, sings stretches arms to the sky. So good, So good, So good! 9/365

Yours is as reliable as the sun rising in the east. Mine is as reliable as a fountain of cesium 133. May the best clock win! 8/365