Parables, fables - stories that tell in order to get to a billboard at the end of the road, where a catchy slogan is painted in neon yellow or bright flamingo orange. The letters are as long- legged as wading birds, as familiar as fork or spoon or cup. As night falls, no one says crepuscular or eventide. As the orphaned child sobs under the mother tree, no one blames patriarchy. The crone isn't wise, only bitter. The young are either desperate or lost. The last page delivers a verdict reputed to be the will of the gods.
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