#dailyprompt1980 — Public Fediverse posts

Epilogue: A Toast to Treachery

The arrest of Inspector Salomone was a quiet affair, conducted with the discretion that only a small village like Speranza could muster. Inspector Davies, the unassuming but astute officer who had once investigated the death of Elias Thorne, led the disgraced Salomone away in handcuffs. The former guardian of the law did not rage; instead, he wore a look of terrified resignation, muttering about a “higher tempo” and a “conductor” who would not be pleased.

“I was merely the second fiddle, Moira,” Salomone hissed as he was placed into the squad car, his eyes darting toward the bell tower. “The orchestra plays on, with or without me.”

Back at the Coffee Taverna, the atmosphere was one of exhausted relief. The adrenaline that had fueled our escape from the Cigars House had faded, replaced by the heavy, comforting scent of roasted beans and the earthy aroma of Altea’s unlit tobacco.

We gathered around the table to open the bottle of Speranza, Year Zero. Altea, with the reverence of a priestess, used a corkscrew to pull the ancient stopper. It emerged with a satisfying pop, releasing not the smell of vinegar, but a rich, complex bouquet of dark cherries, leather, and… something metallic.

“To the soil of Speranza,” Anna toasted, raising her glass. “And to friendship, the only root that doesn’t rot.”

We drank. The wine was exquisite—velvety and deep. But as I set my glass down, Toe, my sleek black cat, jumped onto the table. He did not look at the wine. He looked at the cork.

With a surgical extend of a single claw, he hooked the cork and batted it toward me. It rolled across the wooden table, coming to rest against the base of the kerosene lamp.

“Look,” I whispered, the Poirot-like instinct twitching in my mind.

Burned into the side of the cork, hidden until it was pulled from the neck of the bottle, was not a vintage year. It was a sequence of musical notes. A specific, haunting trill.

“That’s not just a melody,” Marisa said, her face paling as she recognized the notation. “That is the opening bar of The Devil’s Trill sonata. It’s the signature of the ‘Maestro’—a legendary thief who steals not with silence, but with sound.”

A New dissonance

Before I could respond, the heavy oak door of the Taverna creaked open. The wind from the street blew in, extinguishing the candles and plunging us into a sudden, Hitchcockian gloom.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman, drenched from a sudden squall. She clutched a violin case to her chest as if it were an infant. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the same terror I had seen in Viviana Bellini’s face weeks ago.

“Dr. Hopes?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They told me you could help. I am the second violinist for the quartet playing at the gala tonight. But… the first chair has vanished.”

She stepped into the light, and Ashwaganda let out a low, warning growl from his perch.

“He didn’t just disappear,” the woman sobbed, placing the violin case on the table next to the branded cork. “He vanished while he was playing a solo on stage. One moment the music was there, and the next… only silence. And in his place, they found this.”

She opened the case. The violin was gone. Resting in the velvet lining was not an instrument, but a perfectly preserved, severed finger of a marble statue—and a single, fresh cacao bean.

I looked at Altea, Anna, and Marisa. The “Conductor” Salomone had warned us about had already begun his performance. The wine was finished, but the overture to a new nightmare had just begun.

“Lock the doors, Anna,” I said, picking up the marble finger. “It seems our quiet life in Speranza is about to get very loud.”

Epilogue: A Toast to Treachery

The arrest of Inspector Salomone was a quiet affair, conducted with the discretion that only a small village like Speranza could muster. Inspector Davies, the unassuming but astute officer who had once investigated the death of Elias Thorne, led the disgraced Salomone away in handcuffs. The former guardian of the law did not rage; instead, he wore a look of terrified resignation, muttering about a “higher tempo” and a “conductor” who would not be pleased.

“I was merely the second fiddle, Moira,” Salomone hissed as he was placed into the squad car, his eyes darting toward the bell tower. “The orchestra plays on, with or without me.”

Back at the Coffee Taverna, the atmosphere was one of exhausted relief. The adrenaline that had fueled our escape from the Cigars House had faded, replaced by the heavy, comforting scent of roasted beans and the earthy aroma of Altea’s unlit tobacco.

We gathered around the table to open the bottle of Speranza, Year Zero. Altea, with the reverence of a priestess, used a corkscrew to pull the ancient stopper. It emerged with a satisfying pop, releasing not the smell of vinegar, but a rich, complex bouquet of dark cherries, leather, and… something metallic.

“To the soil of Speranza,” Anna toasted, raising her glass. “And to friendship, the only root that doesn’t rot.”

We drank. The wine was exquisite—velvety and deep. But as I set my glass down, Toe, my sleek black cat, jumped onto the table. He did not look at the wine. He looked at the cork.

With a surgical extend of a single claw, he hooked the cork and batted it toward me. It rolled across the wooden table, coming to rest against the base of the kerosene lamp.

“Look,” I whispered, the Poirot-like instinct twitching in my mind.

Burned into the side of the cork, hidden until it was pulled from the neck of the bottle, was not a vintage year. It was a sequence of musical notes. A specific, haunting trill.

“That’s not just a melody,” Marisa said, her face paling as she recognized the notation. “That is the opening bar of The Devil’s Trill sonata. It’s the signature of the ‘Maestro’—a legendary thief who steals not with silence, but with sound.”

A New dissonance

Before I could respond, the heavy oak door of the Taverna creaked open. The wind from the street blew in, extinguishing the candles and plunging us into a sudden, Hitchcockian gloom.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman, drenched from a sudden squall. She clutched a violin case to her chest as if it were an infant. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the same terror I had seen in Viviana Bellini’s face weeks ago.

“Dr. Hopes?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They told me you could help. I am the second violinist for the quartet playing at the gala tonight. But… the first chair has vanished.”

She stepped into the light, and Ashwaganda let out a low, warning growl from his perch.

“He didn’t just disappear,” the woman sobbed, placing the violin case on the table next to the branded cork. “He vanished while he was playing a solo on stage. One moment the music was there, and the next… only silence. And in his place, they found this.”

She opened the case. The violin was gone. Resting in the velvet lining was not an instrument, but a perfectly preserved, severed finger of a marble statue—and a single, fresh cacao bean.

I looked at Altea, Anna, and Marisa. The “Conductor” Salomone had warned us about had already begun his performance. The wine was finished, but the overture to a new nightmare had just begun.

“Lock the doors, Anna,” I said, picking up the marble finger. “It seems our quiet life in Speranza is about to get very loud.”

Epilogue: A Toast to Treachery

The arrest of Inspector Salomone was a quiet affair, conducted with the discretion that only a small village like Speranza could muster. Inspector Davies, the unassuming but astute officer who had once investigated the death of Elias Thorne, led the disgraced Salomone away in handcuffs. The former guardian of the law did not rage; instead, he wore a look of terrified resignation, muttering about a “higher tempo” and a “conductor” who would not be pleased.

“I was merely the second fiddle, Moira,” Salomone hissed as he was placed into the squad car, his eyes darting toward the bell tower. “The orchestra plays on, with or without me.”

Back at the Coffee Taverna, the atmosphere was one of exhausted relief. The adrenaline that had fueled our escape from the Cigars House had faded, replaced by the heavy, comforting scent of roasted beans and the earthy aroma of Altea’s unlit tobacco.

We gathered around the table to open the bottle of Speranza, Year Zero. Altea, with the reverence of a priestess, used a corkscrew to pull the ancient stopper. It emerged with a satisfying pop, releasing not the smell of vinegar, but a rich, complex bouquet of dark cherries, leather, and… something metallic.

“To the soil of Speranza,” Anna toasted, raising her glass. “And to friendship, the only root that doesn’t rot.”

We drank. The wine was exquisite—velvety and deep. But as I set my glass down, Toe, my sleek black cat, jumped onto the table. He did not look at the wine. He looked at the cork.

With a surgical extend of a single claw, he hooked the cork and batted it toward me. It rolled across the wooden table, coming to rest against the base of the kerosene lamp.

“Look,” I whispered, the Poirot-like instinct twitching in my mind.

Burned into the side of the cork, hidden until it was pulled from the neck of the bottle, was not a vintage year. It was a sequence of musical notes. A specific, haunting trill.

“That’s not just a melody,” Marisa said, her face paling as she recognized the notation. “That is the opening bar of The Devil’s Trill sonata. It’s the signature of the ‘Maestro’—a legendary thief who steals not with silence, but with sound.”

A New dissonance

Before I could respond, the heavy oak door of the Taverna creaked open. The wind from the street blew in, extinguishing the candles and plunging us into a sudden, Hitchcockian gloom.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman, drenched from a sudden squall. She clutched a violin case to her chest as if it were an infant. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the same terror I had seen in Viviana Bellini’s face weeks ago.

“Dr. Hopes?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They told me you could help. I am the second violinist for the quartet playing at the gala tonight. But… the first chair has vanished.”

She stepped into the light, and Ashwaganda let out a low, warning growl from his perch.

“He didn’t just disappear,” the woman sobbed, placing the violin case on the table next to the branded cork. “He vanished while he was playing a solo on stage. One moment the music was there, and the next… only silence. And in his place, they found this.”

She opened the case. The violin was gone. Resting in the velvet lining was not an instrument, but a perfectly preserved, severed finger of a marble statue—and a single, fresh cacao bean.

I looked at Altea, Anna, and Marisa. The “Conductor” Salomone had warned us about had already begun his performance. The wine was finished, but the overture to a new nightmare had just begun.

“Lock the doors, Anna,” I said, picking up the marble finger. “It seems our quiet life in Speranza is about to get very loud.”

Epilogue: A Toast to Treachery

The arrest of Inspector Salomone was a quiet affair, conducted with the discretion that only a small village like Speranza could muster. Inspector Davies, the unassuming but astute officer who had once investigated the death of Elias Thorne, led the disgraced Salomone away in handcuffs. The former guardian of the law did not rage; instead, he wore a look of terrified resignation, muttering about a “higher tempo” and a “conductor” who would not be pleased.

“I was merely the second fiddle, Moira,” Salomone hissed as he was placed into the squad car, his eyes darting toward the bell tower. “The orchestra plays on, with or without me.”

Back at the Coffee Taverna, the atmosphere was one of exhausted relief. The adrenaline that had fueled our escape from the Cigars House had faded, replaced by the heavy, comforting scent of roasted beans and the earthy aroma of Altea’s unlit tobacco.

We gathered around the table to open the bottle of Speranza, Year Zero. Altea, with the reverence of a priestess, used a corkscrew to pull the ancient stopper. It emerged with a satisfying pop, releasing not the smell of vinegar, but a rich, complex bouquet of dark cherries, leather, and… something metallic.

“To the soil of Speranza,” Anna toasted, raising her glass. “And to friendship, the only root that doesn’t rot.”

We drank. The wine was exquisite—velvety and deep. But as I set my glass down, Toe, my sleek black cat, jumped onto the table. He did not look at the wine. He looked at the cork.

With a surgical extend of a single claw, he hooked the cork and batted it toward me. It rolled across the wooden table, coming to rest against the base of the kerosene lamp.

“Look,” I whispered, the Poirot-like instinct twitching in my mind.

Burned into the side of the cork, hidden until it was pulled from the neck of the bottle, was not a vintage year. It was a sequence of musical notes. A specific, haunting trill.

“That’s not just a melody,” Marisa said, her face paling as she recognized the notation. “That is the opening bar of The Devil’s Trill sonata. It’s the signature of the ‘Maestro’—a legendary thief who steals not with silence, but with sound.”

A New dissonance

Before I could respond, the heavy oak door of the Taverna creaked open. The wind from the street blew in, extinguishing the candles and plunging us into a sudden, Hitchcockian gloom.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman, drenched from a sudden squall. She clutched a violin case to her chest as if it were an infant. Her eyes were wide, reflecting the same terror I had seen in Viviana Bellini’s face weeks ago.

“Dr. Hopes?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They told me you could help. I am the second violinist for the quartet playing at the gala tonight. But… the first chair has vanished.”

She stepped into the light, and Ashwaganda let out a low, warning growl from his perch.

“He didn’t just disappear,” the woman sobbed, placing the violin case on the table next to the branded cork. “He vanished while he was playing a solo on stage. One moment the music was there, and the next… only silence. And in his place, they found this.”

She opened the case. The violin was gone. Resting in the velvet lining was not an instrument, but a perfectly preserved, severed finger of a marble statue—and a single, fresh cacao bean.

I looked at Altea, Anna, and Marisa. The “Conductor” Salomone had warned us about had already begun his performance. The wine was finished, but the overture to a new nightmare had just begun.

“Lock the doors, Anna,” I said, picking up the marble finger. “It seems our quiet life in Speranza is about to get very loud.”

“How to kick off The Highest Ways: A 7-Day Trentino to Friuli Alpine Traverse”

To pull off this 7-day crossing, your strategy for fuel and gear is just as important as your ski line. Below are the specific locations to stock up and the best spots to refuel along the way.

⛺ Planning the Window: When to Book

• The Winter Window: The main winter season for most refuges and lift facilities in the Dolomites runs from early December (around Dec 5–6) through early April (around April 6–7).
• Hut Strategy: Many high-altitude huts officially open for winter around December 5 or 6. However, popular refuges like Lagazuoi may open slightly later in December (around Dec 23), while others like Averau open as early as Dec 6.
• Early Spring: The high-altitude trekking season traditionally begins on June 20, but if the weather is favorable, many huts in Trentino open their doors early in spring.
  🛒 Where to Buy Gear & Supplies
  Start your journey in San Martino di Castrozza, which serves as your primary base for equipment and food.

1. Mountain Equipment & Ski Gear

• San Martino di Castrozza: You will find several shops for mountain clothing and equipment. Minimarket Taufer also stocks gear-related accessories like condimenti and basic mountain needs.
• Cortina/Pocol Area: If you pass through the northern routes, the Sports Equipment Rental Pocol opens in early December.

1. Groceries & High-Energy Snacks

• Despar Supermarket (San Martino): Best for fresh fruit, regional specialties, artisanal cold cuts, and local cheeses.
• Coop Supermarket (San Martino): Famous for quality and organic options, including a section for natural foods, whole grains, and healthy snacks.
• Minimarket Taufer (San Martino): Offers a wide range of “genuine products” including speck, salumi, honey, and specialty muesli (chocolate, yogurt/raspberry, or honey/nut mixes) which are perfect high-energy trail fuel.

1. Finishing in Friuli (Forni di Sopra)

• Cooperativa Imperial Forni: A central supermarket for replenishing supplies.
• Local Delicacies: Visit Malga Alta Carnia or Malga Carnia Formaggi for specialty mountain cheeses and select cold cuts.
• Fresh Bread: Stop at Panificio Fornese for local baked goods to carry on your final descent.
  🍰 Sweet Treats, Chocolate & Coffee
  Alpine touring burns thousands of calories, so high-energy stops are essential.
• Pasticceria Myriam (Forni di Sopra): A great spot to end your journey with traditional Friulian pastries.
• Minimarket Taufer: Stocks a variety of chocolates and sweets specifically labeled for mountain energy.
• Bar & Chocolaterie (Hotel Villa Eden, Corvara): If your route dips into Val Badia, they offer a wide range of flavored hot chocolates and little chocolates perfect for a mid-journey treat.
• Handmade Dolomites Chocolate: Look for specialized “Dolomites Chocolate” in local centers like the Gardena Center, which combines South American and African cocoa with mountain tradition.
  🍽️ Where to Have Dinner & Breakfast
• Alpine Refuge Dining: In winter, a typical hut meal starts with a platter of speck, luganega, and Alpine cheeses, followed by hearty classics like goulash with polenta or hot canederli (Tirolian dumplings).
• Baita Colverde (San Martino): At 2,000 meters, this refuge offers traditional Primiero Valley specialties and is perfect for a lunch stop or a romantic high-altitude dinner.
• Malga Civertaghe (San Martino): A mountainside dairy farm (malga) known for authentic local food like polenta and a blend of Italian and Austrian dishes.
• Rifugio Rosetta: Offers warming meals like pasta with venison or minestrone, essential after skiing through deep snow.
• Ristorante da Anita: Ideal for a traditional dinner featuring local specialties like pumpkin ravioli and sachertorte.

To help you prepare for the physical demand of this “High Ways” crossing, here is a breakdown of the daily metrics for a 7-day winter ski traverse from Passo Rolle (Trentino) to Forni di Sopra (Friuli).

🏔️ Difficulty and Terrain
This traverse is classified as Intermediate to Advanced. You should be a fluid off-piste skier capable of handling all snow conditions and comfortable with “kick turns” on slopes up to 35°.

📊 7-Day Performance Summary
The average daily climb with skins ranges from 500m to 1,100m. For a traverse of this scale, expect to skin for 2 to 5 hours per day. Day Key Stage Est. Vertical Gain (Uphill) Technical Difficulty 1 Passo Rolle to Monte Mulaz ~700m – 900m Moderate (Porphyry ridges) 2 Mulaz to Forca Rossa ~500m – 1,100m Moderate (Limestone plateau) 3 Marmolada Glacier Ascent ~1,200m – 1,400m Challenging (High altitude) 4 Sella Massif & Val de Mesdì ~600m – 700m Technical (Narrow couloirs) 5 Fanes to Tre Cime ~500m – 900m Moderate (Frozen valleys) 6 Croda Rossa to Friuli Border ~1,000m Demanding (Remote wild) 7 Monte Pramaggiore Descent ~1,200m – 1,400m Technical (Final steep lines)

🥗 High-Performance Fueling Tips

Since you will be burning between 3,000 and 5,000 calories daily, follow these fueling indications:

• Breakfast (The “Refuge Special”): Most huts provide a heavy breakfast of malga milk, artisanal jams, local cheeses, and cold cuts to provide slow-release energy.
• On-the-Trail Snacks: Pack “genuine products” from local minimarkets like chocolate-mixed muesli, speck slabs, and honey-nut bars.
• Lunch: Many huts offer sack lunches you can pack, or you can stop at valley refuges for a warm Gulaschsuppe (goulash soup).
• Dinner: Focus on recovery with protein and carbs—venison pasta, handmade canederli (dumplings), and traditional polenta.

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“How to kick off The Highest Ways: A 7-Day Trentino to Friuli Alpine Traverse”

To pull off this 7-day crossing, your strategy for fuel and gear is just as important as your ski line. Below are the specific locations to stock up and the best spots to refuel along the way.

⛺ Planning the Window: When to Book

• The Winter Window: The main winter season for most refuges and lift facilities in the Dolomites runs from early December (around Dec 5–6) through early April (around April 6–7).
• Hut Strategy: Many high-altitude huts officially open for winter around December 5 or 6. However, popular refuges like Lagazuoi may open slightly later in December (around Dec 23), while others like Averau open as early as Dec 6.
• Early Spring: The high-altitude trekking season traditionally begins on June 20, but if the weather is favorable, many huts in Trentino open their doors early in spring.
  🛒 Where to Buy Gear & Supplies
  Start your journey in San Martino di Castrozza, which serves as your primary base for equipment and food.

1. Mountain Equipment & Ski Gear

• San Martino di Castrozza: You will find several shops for mountain clothing and equipment. Minimarket Taufer also stocks gear-related accessories like condimenti and basic mountain needs.
• Cortina/Pocol Area: If you pass through the northern routes, the Sports Equipment Rental Pocol opens in early December.

1. Groceries & High-Energy Snacks

• Despar Supermarket (San Martino): Best for fresh fruit, regional specialties, artisanal cold cuts, and local cheeses.
• Coop Supermarket (San Martino): Famous for quality and organic options, including a section for natural foods, whole grains, and healthy snacks.
• Minimarket Taufer (San Martino): Offers a wide range of “genuine products” including speck, salumi, honey, and specialty muesli (chocolate, yogurt/raspberry, or honey/nut mixes) which are perfect high-energy trail fuel.

1. Finishing in Friuli (Forni di Sopra)

• Cooperativa Imperial Forni: A central supermarket for replenishing supplies.
• Local Delicacies: Visit Malga Alta Carnia or Malga Carnia Formaggi for specialty mountain cheeses and select cold cuts.
• Fresh Bread: Stop at Panificio Fornese for local baked goods to carry on your final descent.
  🍰 Sweet Treats, Chocolate & Coffee
  Alpine touring burns thousands of calories, so high-energy stops are essential.
• Pasticceria Myriam (Forni di Sopra): A great spot to end your journey with traditional Friulian pastries.
• Minimarket Taufer: Stocks a variety of chocolates and sweets specifically labeled for mountain energy.
• Bar & Chocolaterie (Hotel Villa Eden, Corvara): If your route dips into Val Badia, they offer a wide range of flavored hot chocolates and little chocolates perfect for a mid-journey treat.
• Handmade Dolomites Chocolate: Look for specialized “Dolomites Chocolate” in local centers like the Gardena Center, which combines South American and African cocoa with mountain tradition.
  🍽️ Where to Have Dinner & Breakfast
• Alpine Refuge Dining: In winter, a typical hut meal starts with a platter of speck, luganega, and Alpine cheeses, followed by hearty classics like goulash with polenta or hot canederli (Tirolian dumplings).
• Baita Colverde (San Martino): At 2,000 meters, this refuge offers traditional Primiero Valley specialties and is perfect for a lunch stop or a romantic high-altitude dinner.
• Malga Civertaghe (San Martino): A mountainside dairy farm (malga) known for authentic local food like polenta and a blend of Italian and Austrian dishes.
• Rifugio Rosetta: Offers warming meals like pasta with venison or minestrone, essential after skiing through deep snow.
• Ristorante da Anita: Ideal for a traditional dinner featuring local specialties like pumpkin ravioli and sachertorte.

To help you prepare for the physical demand of this “High Ways” crossing, here is a breakdown of the daily metrics for a 7-day winter ski traverse from Passo Rolle (Trentino) to Forni di Sopra (Friuli).

🏔️ Difficulty and Terrain
This traverse is classified as Intermediate to Advanced. You should be a fluid off-piste skier capable of handling all snow conditions and comfortable with “kick turns” on slopes up to 35°.

📊 7-Day Performance Summary
The average daily climb with skins ranges from 500m to 1,100m. For a traverse of this scale, expect to skin for 2 to 5 hours per day. Day Key Stage Est. Vertical Gain (Uphill) Technical Difficulty 1 Passo Rolle to Monte Mulaz ~700m – 900m Moderate (Porphyry ridges) 2 Mulaz to Forca Rossa ~500m – 1,100m Moderate (Limestone plateau) 3 Marmolada Glacier Ascent ~1,200m – 1,400m Challenging (High altitude) 4 Sella Massif & Val de Mesdì ~600m – 700m Technical (Narrow couloirs) 5 Fanes to Tre Cime ~500m – 900m Moderate (Frozen valleys) 6 Croda Rossa to Friuli Border ~1,000m Demanding (Remote wild) 7 Monte Pramaggiore Descent ~1,200m – 1,400m Technical (Final steep lines)

🥗 High-Performance Fueling Tips

Since you will be burning between 3,000 and 5,000 calories daily, follow these fueling indications:

• Breakfast (The “Refuge Special”): Most huts provide a heavy breakfast of malga milk, artisanal jams, local cheeses, and cold cuts to provide slow-release energy.
• On-the-Trail Snacks: Pack “genuine products” from local minimarkets like chocolate-mixed muesli, speck slabs, and honey-nut bars.
• Lunch: Many huts offer sack lunches you can pack, or you can stop at valley refuges for a warm Gulaschsuppe (goulash soup).
• Dinner: Focus on recovery with protein and carbs—venison pasta, handmade canederli (dumplings), and traditional polenta.

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If you were forced to wear one outfit over and over again, what would it be?

Daily Writing Prompt

I sent the text from last year’s answer to this question through Google’s Gemini and asked it to rewrite it in the style of a pompous ass. It did not rewrite me, but it did write a pompous ass of a response.

That’s a delightful answer! Jeans and a t-shirt are a classic for a reason – comfortable and versatile.

As for the profundity of the question…well, let’s just say some minds work faster than others. Perhaps for a being like yourself, eternally unbound by the constraints of laundry day, the concept of a singular outfit is rather… pedestrian.

However, for us mere mortals, a favorite outfit can hold a certain significance. A Rush tour shirt, a symbol of youthful rebellion and musical passion! Or a Bruins/Red Sox jersey, a testament to unwavering loyalty and civic pride! Clearly, your sartorial choices transcend mere function and delve into the realm of emotional resonance.

In short, a seemingly simple question reveals a surprisingly complex individual. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must ponder the existential implications of sock selection.

https://g.co/gemini/share/94184fab1c1d

Anyone else getting really tired of this game, or is it just me?

https://robertjames1971.blog/2024/06/25/a-i-chimes-in/

#dailyprompt #dailyprompt1980