I'm leaving the old intro here, but adding this- it appears the doves have taken over my blog for their fiction. Just as well, I was doing a piss poor job of updating. They're doing much better.

This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

the two hundred and eighth story

Once upon a time there was a crow so pleased with the glossiness of her own feathers that as each one fell out she carefully collected and kept it. After a few years she had enough to contract with a weaverbird and made herself a glorious feather cloak to wear over her natural one on cold evenings.

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