- UTC: 2018-03-24 06:01
On a mostly sunny Sunday, a group of many appeared. Some remained cloaked in shadows, out of respect. Before the first words could be spoken, a couple rain drops came down, as if the clouds themselves were weeping.
This day was set aside as a memory. To memorialize 9/11 and to memorialize Ozog, the goblin King. Individually everyone got up and spoke. Many tears were shed throughout the gathering. It is truly hard to put into words, the feelings that were felt and shared during this time.
At the end of the day, once everyone had a turn to say a few words, the crowd did their own goodbyes and slowly faded into the shadows. What was left is eternal. A small spot in the forest, forever in bloom. A rustic bench to sit and think, or talk. A calm that seems to come from nowhere. But for those involved, we know where the calm comes from.
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