Miniar

It has come to my attention that people like me are generally not welcome in fairy tales. It's the talking birds that do it. The minute a sparrow shows up to pipe a direful warning it's all over down at the first hurdle done The body in the fifty-fathom well will have to wait the old woman turned into a hare the murdered mother in the juniper tree as I whip out my Sibley guide and look for the entry with the fieldmark labeled capable of human speech. For this crime I have been accused of a failure of wonder of having chained up my inner child and sent her to work in the salt mines. But the truth (if you really want to kn