| A Yurble stole my cinnamon roll! |
Circulation: 196,098,192 |
Issue: 894 | 13th day of Running, Y22 |
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Poetry
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"Victor the Gargoyle" by Username
"I ’m not cursed! Right Noir. Today is the day I will see the sunrise,” The young gray eyrie watched as the sky began to lighten with his black barbat perched on his shoulder. He watched as the sun rays began to rise over the leafless trees of the Haunted Woods. The stiffness in his feet traveled up his leg to his waist as the sun rose. With a sigh, almost no one heard the eyrie disappeared and, in his place, one could see only another gargoyle perched among them many that perched on the manor’s roof.
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