“The Impossible Game”

I was certain that I only had one hair tie around my wrist, and as I read, not so coincidentally my book on magic, knowing that certainly what was happening was incredibly magical indeed, as I felt something creeping up my forearm, still somewhat shaken by my dream of not simply a spider, but a very large black and yellow tarantula—startlingly sweeping my arm to find that the disturbance was not intact a pest or creature of some sort, as originally assumed—however, instead a black hair tie, which I often used to pick up, however ironically was typically in short supply of when I needed one, and, given the privelege to wear my hat at all times as of lately— I hadn't needed one, and I hadn't been picking them up at the frequency that I used to certainly. This was strange—and under the impression that the inner workings of a spell were indeed in play, after having seen none other than increasingly mysterious Dillon Francis character—or even, rather, the handsome bastard Hazel quite so stopping the music to light candles —to which I had thought quite loudly ‘Oh, no!' Even if it was a game, he was good at playing it—and even if it was a game I made up—I didn't quite yes remember how exactly to play it…and this one as hilariously dangerous, as figures I knew to be obstinately powerful we're having a field day with my psychic psyche. I knew some things, but never all—and even in the omnipotent all knowing, playing dumb was the only card. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.