This fable truly does not exist at all. Each wing tangles on the next wing like a round bird crashing to the ground without the help of gravity. Hiver Jawn dreams of a long bird - a millipede with its legs broken in the back-grinding of teeth thinking each was a juicy chicken wing. Cooking is the only means to make something become what it should be. Over-cook this fable and you get something that's underground.
Posted by weirdtongue
at 3:03 PM BST