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Mystic Noon Cake
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You applaud the fond choice in poetry, and after considering time limits, you decide to shower. The sun, after all, has barely left the ground in its sunrise. That would mean that the Brothers and Sisters of your congregation would be there first, not the townsfolk. They arrive, or start to, once the sun has left the horizon.
That gives you - - ten minutes? At best?
You decide to sing as you shower. Nobody else is listening, and nobody will tell. Besides, the shower has the best resonation for it, other than the church private altar room. You sing there, too, but only when nobody is around.
You personally think you have a good voice. But you don't go bragging about God's good gift just like that. Others consider it oddly smooth for an Owlite, or they might say it has a good range, which you agree with. You can hit plenty of notes, but you don't really sing anything other than your own written verse.
Sometimes you write to forgotten gods. Sometimes you write about the affairs of gods you created. And other times it's church hymns. Either way, it gets that good sort of ancient or otherwise foreign feel to it.
And, pardon mental language, DAMN if the shower isn't the best place for it.
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