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  • Somewhere in 2011 I joined a collaborative story writing group called 'FoldingStory.' It's something like writing stories on Twitter. The fun part is that you don't know what the whole story is about. All you can see is what the person before you wrote. It's somewhat like folding the paper and passing it to the next person who will add the next line.
    There are 10 folds in the story and each fold is limited to 180 characters. It's pretty simple to use and you have three options. You can start or 'create' a story, 'add' to a story or 'read' a story.

    Here's one that I started a month ago and was continued and completed by the others. Each fold has been separated by a line.
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    1. It was the second last day of my life. I knew because the astrologer told me so. I then asked the astrologer if he knew that he would die that very day. When he said 'no' I killed
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    2. him, just to be cheeky. As I stared at the astrologer's lifeless body, I tilted back my head and let out a roaring laugh. 'Guess the stars were not aligned'. I took over his
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    3. body during an astral projection and had some fun making bogus readings: 'That wrinkle means youre immortal,' ' Youre a Scorpittarius' and 'you must start a blog, Your Highness.'
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    4. Then the Karma Police showed up. 'I'm afraid you're misusing your non-corporeal projection in violation of twilight zoning codes. We are forced to transfer you into a cat.' 'Meow?'
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    5. Luckily I had a good Dogma, and he showed up just in time to chase the Karma Police away. Inadvertently, I began to lick my new feline paws and rub the side of my head, which
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    6. which still smelled like the Karma Chameleon i'd just eaten. My Dogma knocked over a rich bottle of Demigrogue and we lapped it up together. Feline and Canine. It was Kismet.
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    7.. The Rat who got the dregs. Having disposed of all the victuals at the Banquet of Destiny we were left to fend for ourselves. The Dog spilled the shaker with the salt of skepticism
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    8. and threw it over his left shoulder to fend off Satan. Only thing was that Satan was standing behind the Dog's right shoulder. We were skeptical. It was actually him at first, but
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    9. he showed us his driver's licence and asked us to call him Beelzebub. The Dog just looked up into the sky at a fluffy white cloud that was shaped like a
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    10. dragon about to murder his whole family. The Dog didn't know how to comprehend this, he was a dog. Beelzebub knew very well what it meant, though. It was over. The MLP Marathon.....
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