<p><br></p><p><em>No man had made it, that we knew. Not time enough, for it was the work of one night, and not even, but a minute, maybe less. Soft thunder that woke most who heard it as muffled cannon fire or dynamite down a mineshaft in their dreams. </em></p><br><p>A mysterious hole appears in Consolation, which soon draws in prospectors, charlatans, and other poor misguided wretches from all over Zobesland. Then one day, an even stranger stranger appears.</p><br><p>Written, produced and performed by <strong>Neil Fitzgerald</strong> (all copyright)</p><br><p>Contact the writer; producer and performer for rights, etc:<strong> [email protected]</strong></p><br><p>To support the author, go to <a href="https://neil-fitzgerald.com/" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">https://neil-fitzgerald.com/</a> or buy me a coffee, you tight bastards: <a href="https://buymeacoffee.com/neilfitzgerald" rel="noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">https://buymeacoffee.com/neilfitzgerald</a></p><br /><hr><p style='color:grey; font-size:0.75em;'> Hosted on Acast. See <a style='color:grey;' target='_blank' rel='noopener noreferrer' href='https://acast.com/privacy'>acast.com/privacy</a> for more information.</p>
