Gather close and let me spin you a tale. Let me help you cast aside your tiresome day and mundane woes with the gift of a story. Don't worry about compensation, really you are the one doing me a favor, for I have so few opportunities to spin a truly killer fable.

Once there was a raconteur who grew up on a farm, full of optimism and faith in the human spirit. Wanting nothing more than to bring a tiny seed of country wisdom to the metallic city he set out on a personal quest. Sadly, the city was a much sharper foe than the simple country boy had envisioned.

Upon arrival in the city all his possessions were stolen; after a few muggings and burglaries the fleeting futility of ownership was made abundantly clear to him. Bruised and beaten, he was turned away from the vendors who would not spare even a botched morsel for the poor wretched soul. That was when the boy realized that during his entire journey the city had been working in him like a poison. Eventually, He was as hard and sharp as those who had abused him, possibly even sharper.

I wish I could claim this tale, possessed a happier ending. Though really, isn't happiness a matter of relative perspective? What causes me happiness may cause you harm. If I were to offer some consolation in the form of a moral it would be this: Never fall victim to the distractions of a charismatic mugger and his stealthy partner because witnesses can be such a bother.

Written by: danatblair

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