Go to the center of any village these days and you’ll find makeshift campsites ringing the square, filled to overflow with nose imps.

These playful creatures, once a regular sight in the cavernous nostrils of our forefathers, are now more frequently seen huddling under broken crockery, never having seen the inside of a nose, suffering from the elements.

The reason: Millennials. Too good to share their noses. “Oh, the itching… the conversation!” they say. “And don’t they lead to brain damage?”

A soft generation with pinched noses that whistle… a whistle of selfishness.

It’s Follow Friday and we have some suggestions!

Jeff of Masks – A total goofball, Jeff can be seen about town claiming that his face isn’t a mask, but just look at him. There’s no way. Ignore his cries and his offers to let you touch the mask to prove it’s real.

The Three Shivering – Following them is tricky, because you only see them with your peripheral vision, and they live near the bog, so they may just be swamp gas or a trap. Why not follow and find out?

Black Friday – Close your eyes. There. You’re there. You’re in its inkiness. Follow it. Find the pinpoint of light. However long it takes.

#ff #followfriday

In previous years, the wealthy and the fashionable could be seen about town with carrot-creatures on their shoulders, or having their shopping carried by cabbagekins.

No longer.

Millennials flock through the air, a locust-like generation, devouring plant life as they find it… even the animated and friendly variety.

We’ve all heard the panicked cries of turnippins and Yam Folk as they were beset by millennials. Fences can’t keep them out and scarecrows are devoured as soon as made.

Nothing can save our animated veggie brethren. All is lost. Updates as news is available.

Unlike those of us born in the late 900s, this generation born circa the year 1000 refuses to choose from among their number an individual to be thrown into a pit, covered in pine, and left as a sacrifice to the harvest gods.

“My cousin died in a pit when I was a youth,” says Bedg, “and we had the sweetest yams the next year.”

“Times change,” says Wim. “We were born in a year with 4 digits. I don’t see how getting tossed in a pit affects the yield at all.”

Several nights of storms indicate the gods’ displeasure, but we’ll update as more news is available.

It’s terrible to be dragged underneath the lily pads by mermaids when you were only trying to drink from a cool pond.

It’s even worse when the mermaids throw you back on shore uneaten, making cutting comments.

“Why would we eat someone with a haircut like that?”

“Go try some other pond to drink from with your earthworm lips. Go on and WALK there, Legs.”

“Spend another year eating pastries then come on back, skinny.”

C’mon. I can drown as well as anyone. I could be torn apart by sharp little teeth, my bones drifting down into the soft mud floor of a pond.

Give me a shot. Give me a chance.

Blue Humbugs – Noted for their pallor, their lack of interest in answering questions, and their trajectory: away from you as the universe expands

Howling Jerries – Technically the loudest of spirits, but an ear- or spirit-horn placed right up to their mouths is still required to hear them, and even if you’ve gone to that trouble, you’ll find that they don’t know anything. All they have are opinions. Who needs that? Avoid.

Big Doof – Under my bed and won’t come out, the big doof.

Fingy Glows – They touch y ou in the da rk wif dey FINGIES and you g et so scared you can’t t ype

It’s Saturday and we all know what that means! You can put away your combs and ointments, because our Mirror Siblings have the day off! Every reflective surface in the village today is uninhabited because our reversed selves are visiting their Hush Cocoons and resting up for the coming week, when they’ll once again have to match our every movement.

Such dedication! Nature’s wonder, those cocoons, which muffle the shrieking of creatures who’ll never choose their own path!

It’s Wednesday and we all know what that means! Time to take your elderly down to the village square for the weekly Elder Exchange. Swap out the wrinkly creature who’s been parked by your fire pit all week for a new one that’s slightly different shaped, but will at least have new complaints and may tell new stories.

Every bit of lore we know was passed down from these valued elder relatives, so get down there and haggle for the best ones before they’re gone! Wednesdays!

A bit of friendly advice: Don’t trade for the following:

Mushroom-Eyed Ada – She’s all the time talking about how much she can now see since she swapped her eyes for mushrooms. Gross.

Mr. Lump – No one knows his real name, but there’s an old guy under those rags somewhere. Doesn’t talk. Smells a bit. Very active at night.

Dannica Hazelfountain – Only remembers one spell and it turns food into smoke. Only useful if you don’t eat, or if you breathe smoke comfortably. Good way to meet the village fire patrol, though.

Please stop tossing pennies into the well. The spirit of the well doesn’t need pennies to grant your wishes. The spirit needs a ladder. It wants to crawl out of the well, dripping with goodwill, grinning with wet teeth, ready to assist young lovers and lonely widows with its wish-granting, moist fingertips.

No more pennies. Can’t eat any more pennies. Only ladder. A ladder in the dark.