Once upon a time there was a goblin with a face that looked as though it had been bashed in with a shoe. One eye barely opened, and the other bugged out. The skin of his cheeks was mottled and had a tendency to be both flaky and greasy at the same time. His skull was higher on one side of his head than the other, and his large ears were equally lopsided. And on top of all this, he was missing a good half of his teeth, the half remaining being yellowed, rotted, and jagged. But none of this mattered, because he was kind. And that is the end of the lesson.
Once upon a time there was a window into another universe. It was buried deep beneath a moss-covered stone that sat wedged under a tree trunk. One had to bend down very low to see the window, and since very few knew of its existence, it had not been often looked through. But one day a rabbit fell against the moss-covered stone, and in the process of righting herself, she looked deep into the window and vanished. The next day, a chipmunk dropped an acorn by the stone, and when he went to pick it up he found himself gazing into the universe on the other side. He vanished, too. The day after that a little girl walked by the stone, and thinking it looked friendly, bent closer to have a chat. That was when she looked through the window. Suddenly she felt herself disappearing, a pulling that came from the universe on the other side of the window. In one desperate effort, she waved frantically. 'Hello self!' she cried out. And then, just as suddenly, she didn'
It was the Spring that made her weep. Early Spring, just as the sprouts pushed up from heavy earth, the burden of it pressed through with equal parts inevitability and magic. Still, it was the loss of something; a barren landscape, of faded harsh lines and cold silhouettes that filled her with this mourning. How long it would be until Autumn broke! How long until the return that made her feel like she could sleep in her own skin and be at peace. For following Spring, came the mock of happiness that glories in a sudden fleeting beauty and tantalizing warmth that is nothing more than a shortened, sharpened shock. But then, just then, as the leaves would begin to slip and the colors would start to riot, one would begin to breathe. For one knew then that death was on one’s doorstep. Death, best greeted with a kiss on each cheek. For it was only when it arrived that the air grew clear as crystal and breathable as the fumes of the finest wine. The blow of Winter’s solemn breath that br