September 20th - A small turtle reached the summit of a mountain. It was not the highest mountain on earth, but a respectable sized mountain nonetheless. The turtle watched the sunrise from the top and ate a small picnic breakfast. Then he climbed down and went home and was very happy.
September 25th - A member of the Prime Minister's cabinet exploded into a cloud of small brown butterflies. Spontaneous butterfly explosions were nearly unknown at that time, and suspicions were raised that the unnamed cabinet member may have been a flock of butterflies all along. There were demands for a full investigation.
October 26th - Poet Gertrude McGillicutty was killed by a freak Allen wrench accident while attempting to assemble a futon. Her poetry was mediocre at best and was quickly forgotten, but her death was the final one in an ancient curse passed through the maternal line. Nearly six hundred years prior, a female ancestor had robbed a tomb in the Glass Wastes, passing repeatedly under a threshold that promised doom, death, sorrow, and more doom. Under normal circumstances, such a curse would have ended the family within a few generations, but one particular ancestress had been blessed by the god of long chances, and so see-sawed between mortal peril and hairs-breadth escapes for nearly ninety years, five husbands, and no less than eleven children. Her descendants gave the curse a run for its money and it was not until the passing of Ms. McGillicutty that it finally saw its end.