In the city called Malliard indeed there are many symbols of the distant gods; in many ways do the people who live in Malliard hear and interpret the will of the gods. Each moment is every moment; each thing is all things, and the will of the gods may be read in the small and the normal as easily as in the great and unique. For the gods are strange and unknowable and present in all things. Leaves against the sky, trash blown along the alleyways, the strange calligraphy of pigeon shit smeared over a statue… in these things the people of Malliard trace the features of the gods, and tremble at their numinous beauty.
In Malliard indeed are many monsters born, calves with two heads, cats with three eyes, children black on the left and yellow on the right, fish that raise their heads in the frying pan and speak riddles in many tongues. The people of the city of Malliard see these things, and give thanks, and look no farther for answers. No oracles burn incense or rub heavy ashes over their foreheads in celebration of strange nativities. Every moment is each moment; and all things are lovely and rare in the city of Malliard…
Thank you. This has got to be by far my favorite dribble, well, until the next on comes up of course. As a person who never had the difference between reality and imagination thoroughly explained to her, I really identify with this little jewel, and not only because of the above mntioned reason :)
Why do so little people comment? The only way I can explain this to myself is that at some pint you expressly asked people not to. Please reiterate this demand lest you want me to plague you with silly comments for the rest of this blog's life xD
Oh, no, ma'am, I haven't asked anyone to either speak or remain silent. I don't have an (official) opinion one way or the other, though it's always nice to hear from people. Thanks!