Miscellaneous Deeds

The fruitless search for meaning in the mundane.
The fruitless search for meaning in the mundane.

As found within the confines of a decrepit old barn in the woods of Widdale, filled with rotting junk from some house clear-out in years past. I noticed the inscription on the metal of this rusty old chest — something I wouldn’t mind having etched on whatever marker denotes my grave eventually — for what is life but a short collection of Miscellaneous Deeds?

It was totally empty as well. Figures.

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