“On the way home we lost our way. My mother was worried.
‘We must get home,’ she said. ‘We do not want to meet the old Dark Frog.’
‘Who is that?’ I asked.
 
‘A terrible ghost,’ said my father. ‘He comes out at night and eats little frog children for supper.'” --@frogandtoadbot.bsky.social
    "Winter Blues
Apanthropy's grasp has me in its spell,
 
As cold kogarashi sweeps through the fell. 
Langlugs dart, their frost-furled fur, 
Lit by a skafer, while mist steals the air."
  --@thedevilstuna.bsky.social via
    Explorations in 1980s computer music.


 
 
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