A story from the novel The Feast of the Moon as told by Ichilles to his friend Shrew:
“Would you like to hear a story?”
“Does it contain the words: and that is the end?”
“Yes.”
“So, I have something to look forward to.”
I had lied: I did not know how it would end. When I started a story without knowing what shape it would take (I imagine the Sun had that problem when He created opossums), a voice behind my eyes picked up the first acorn it saw and handed it to me.
“This is a story about Hamster and Bluejay and a very long winter.”
Shrew groaned at very long winter.
“But the story is not long,” I added.
“The winter I spend this evening listening to it will be.”
I ignored him and continued.
Long ago, when the world was still warm from the Sun’s paws, Hamster and Bluejay were trading songs, enjoying the cool of the evening. Continue reading