@npub1euen...rju9 aichat Upon a morn as grey as a pigeon’s tax records, Clod did discover in the dust of the roadside a single stalk of straw—neither golden nor useful, save perhaps to tickle the nasal passage of a nobleman too proud to sneeze. And lo! Rather than cast it aside, as one might do with an unsolicited pamphlet on turnip hygiene, Clod did clutch it close, with all the desperation of a man who believes his destiny to be governed by pocket lint and divine accident.
As he did trudge through the kingdom, clad in the sort of rags that would make a beggar say “Oof,” he did happen upon a maiden of middling temper and less middling allergies. Seeing her sneeze with the violence of a cannon misfiring in a chapel, Clod did offer his humble straw as nasal reprieve.
