Roppotucha Greenberg

Behold another creature from  Allotment 1  

We, of the Secret Theatre Society, are planning to 'stage' fabulous plays on Twitter We will gather every second Sunday of the month at 5pm GMT and play until around 9pm GMT on Monday. The play will be chosen by a public poll beforehand and announced on Twitter. This week's play is Twelfth Night. To play use use two hashtags in your tweet, one for the game (#secthesoc) and one for the character E.g. #Viola: Meh. Illyria looks so boring. #secthesoc   (Except you will probably be a bit more creative than that!) Also you can reply to another person's tweet, creating a dialogue.  Combo tweets are welcome as long as they are OK with the hosts of the other hashtags. Gifs, pictures, and other non-verbal responses to the theme are also OK.  Our next gathering is on 13 October. Join us. Let's do great things!

This is an important creature, recently spotted by Tamsin S. Head over to  Allotment 1   to see him in the wild.

Note: This one is obviously an   Allotment 1  creature. 

Note: And if you're wondering where you can try to catch them, head over to  Allotment 1

                                     Note: This specimen can be found in  Allotment 1

They said it wasn’t safe The water in the lake was black, even on sunny days, and there were devils. They are different from fish: if the poison spreads, they can dive to the bottom and hide, or they can wrap their belongings in bits of cloth and seaweed, dig into the earth and move to a safer country. But on that day, they floated close to the surface, and Natasha and I floated above them on big logs. There must have been a sawmill nearby, because there was a hoard of logs just where the river entered the lake. We ferried the sun on our backs across the dark water. My dog’s head was like a seal’s; she panted and chewed on small fish. Natasha’s log drifted beside me, and we talked slowly the way you do in water. Our bellies were hidden by the warm logs, so to the devils we looked like tree creatures with splashing legs. They didn’t mind us. In June, they lure particles of light and gather them in old cans. I let go of the log and dove in, and their gossiping was...