| A Yurble stole my cinnamon roll! |
Circulation: 192,063,087 |
Issue: 628 | 17th day of Sleeping, Y16 |
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Poetry
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"Wentworth's Festival" by encroached
Sweet music flooded in through the windows of the nearly deserted coffee shop. The smells of exotic meats and fruits wafted in with it, and the laughter of dancing children accentuated it all. It was a festive night, a wonderful night. It was the night which celebrated the coming of the new year: the Sun Festival. Detective Sherman Wentworth glared out the window...
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