(cont’d from last week)
…hit you with my time travel Atlas trekking pole. Every Thursday you’ll be transported to a different location, ha, ha, I hope you have your Travel Bags packed.” The tiny child-like man withdrew a pole from his Gamut and pointed it directly at Mr. Pete O’Gear. A Virga like streak of Ether struck Mr. O’Gear.
“I’m so cold…I think I see Blue!”
(to be cont’d)
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