fleamailman

("...I'm subscribed to this thread now, I like TheBig3's reply and can relate to it..." mentioned the goblin who would contribute here, simply he knew luckyme from elsewhere and wished her well here)

repost from elsewhere

between the pouring rain, and unforgiving sun, geneva, where the goblin lived, has periods of gray dullness like now, in which the goblin would usually sit in the bistro trying to make sense of his life, before giving up knowing that when it all made sense he would only want he life to be a mystery again, sighing "...when I understand is when I don't want to understand anymore..."

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