March 19, 2012

Salvation Sal divided the chocolate bar into 8 individual squares. Burrowed deep in the straw with her turkey, she consumed the gleaming squares of lovely delight ever so slowly. Outside, the rain beat a merry tune on the upturned visage of Salvation Al, Sal’s evil twin.

“Where be ye, woman?” called Al, and he entered the contest to name the barn.

“She’s not here,” replied the turkey, knitting her brow and a cardigan.

“Fair enough,” said Al, retreating to Moscow.

Salvation Sal grinned a happy smile of regret, for you see, she had finished the last of the chocolates. Humming a Mayan tune, she rose into the sky and disappeared behind the moon, self banishing herself for certain secret trespasses she had undertaken while giddy.

Right here at this point in the story, the men in white coats with the straightjacket came and took the storyteller away. There were quite a few sighs of relief in the neighborhood, I can tell you.

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