Fair folk of the Fediverse. I bring you a tale of derring-do, of courage and adversity and of a battle worthy of my ancestors.
I bring you the tale of, the changing of the sheets.
It was with no lack of fear or trepidation that I entered the affray, having spent long building up my resolve and courage and my very will to do battle. For my adversary was battle hardened, a worthy enemy I had fought many times before and for whom I could hold nothing but respect and honour. But still, I had bested him those many times before and that lifted my spirits before such a grim deed, even though it had never been without true cost and a mighty effort.
As suspected, his defence was stout. Mighty was his will and grim did the battle rage. Many times was I forced back, breathless, but not defeated. Neither did he falsely rejoice in those moments, knowing only too well my own determination and fortitude. We were worthy adversaries, long time foes and knew each other far too well to claim such premature victory.
Long did the battle rage like this. The dust of war rose up and clogged my very breath and stung my eyes, but still we fought on. Neither relenting, neither giving up. Such was the nature of our eternal strife. Until, breath almost gone from my body, the deed was done. Again I was victorious. But, for how many more times in this relentless war, that no man can tell.
I thank you for listening and hope that no part of this grim, yet I hope heroic tale has offended your fair ears. It is just a simple tale in the end, brought to you by a humble traveller from the far land of Autistic, with chronic asthma and COPD. And I wish you, a fair night.
