The rocky seashore Clumsy lies in a difficult to reach inlet. Inept sailors stumble across it. Others come to the land on foot. The bumpy way in discourages faster forms of travel. Clumsies live in villages and shanties. They gather decorative seashells and nourishing kelp from the rocky shore. The church remains the tallest building.
The pastor stutters short sermons: “Pray for the way to be smooth.”
It never is.
“Pray for old wounds to be healed.”
There are always more.
Visitors stumble into Clumsy and drink too much Clumsy Ale and trip and fall and tell their stories out of order.
"At least, the Clumsies are accepting," says Miss Doe Friend. "For everyone bumbles about. It doesn’t matter how much you try to be careful."
"Sometimes, that only makes the clumsiness worse," advises the Guide.
The Clumsy capitol city Nervous lies atop a small hill. The circle of oddly built houses with five spires looks about to topple. Visitors to Clumsy climb up to Nervous and are welcomed.
“But I never felt comfortable,” says Miss Doe Friend sheepishly. “Although they were friendly enough.”
“Nervousians don’t take to newcomers,” says the Guide.
Lightening strikes Nervous often and tremors shake the structures.
“It’s built upon the Nervous fault line,” says the Guide. “But the five spires have stood for centuries.”
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