Originally Posted by fleamailman

(the goblin thanked the humans for their tokens of communication now, saying "...so you'll let me know if I'm being too interlectuall here won't you, it's just that I'm normally on a writer's forum, and adjusting to here takes some practice...")

the morning darkness, the goblin has a coffee as if waiting for the rain to stop though it won't, not for now at least, and work beckons him through it, so the goblin looks at a reflected light in a puddle below to gage the droplets against the need for an umbrella, chooses a book from the shelf for the bus journey, and readies himself making sure that he has switched off the lights, locked to doors and placed his brain firmly on standby, he steps out and is pelted numb, or who knows perhaps he was numb before that even, "...greetings o great temple of the moneygod, count me amongst your ranks then, for I do your bidding..." he says to the waiting unmoved metropolis as the scene closes tight upon him again