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    Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium
    Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium
    Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium
    Ebook87 pages1 hour

    Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium

    By Judy Cole

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    About this ebook

    Volume I of Madfingers' Almanac, "Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium" is a collection of curiously delightful fables aimed at sophisticated, slightly off-kilter kids and the proud parents who are raising them just outside the box, off the wall...and a little bit to the left of center. (Think “Chicken Soup for the Sardonic Soul of the Princess Bride,” or James Thurber and Jules Pfeiffer meet Edward Gorey and Oscar Wilde in a smack-down grudge match...with Lemony Snicket as referee.) Magic, karma, fate ... boogers? They're all in there with a healthy serving of just desserts.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJudy Cole
    Release dateFeb 26, 2013
    ISBN9781301471324
    Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium
    Author

    Judy Cole

    A long time ago, in a galaxy that now seems quite far away, Judy Cole was one in a long line of Editors-in-Chief of Playgirl magazine—a job title, that in retrospect, she reports, “Turned out to be a lot like marrying Henry the Eighth.” After being “axed” to leave for refusing to print unauthorized nude photos of a certain celebrity who shall remain nameless (but shares co-parenting duties with Angelina Jolie), Judy authored a book on sex and relationships, "Playing For Keeps: Dating, Seducing and [Maybe] Marrying the Modern Man" (Adams Media) and earned a living as a freelance writer/editor. That was followed by stints as Editor-in-Chief of Today's Charlotte Woman, SexIs and Vibrant Living magazines. Her writing has appeared in Creative Loafing, Nerve, SKIRT!, North Carolina Health News, Business North Carolina, Men's Fitness (online), Charlotte Magazine, and Draft.

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      Book preview

      Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium - Judy Cole

      © 2013 Judy Cole

      Peculiar Parables for a Dubious Millennium is a work of fiction.

      All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage retrieval system without written permission from the author, except in the case of a brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

      Cover design by Judy Cole

      Artwork courtesy of Nat Cole and Albrecht Dürer

      Contents

      The Djinn

      Virgil

      The Sad Maiden

      The Best Medicine

      Middle Wisdom

      The Reluctant Dancer

      The Revenge of the Garden

      What You Wish For

      Goldilocks And Three, The Bears

      A Snake in the Glass

      As You Sow

      Acknowledgements

      About the Author

      The Djinn

      Two poor men were walking down a hard road in autumn. Suddenly before them, a Djinn appeared, his palms outstretched. In one hand was a coin of shiny gold, in the other a hazy, white stone the size of a pigeon’s egg. To the men he said, Choose.

      The men were awestruck. Choose! the Djinn repeated.

      Calmly, the first beggar reached toward the apparition. The second man felt a great wave of anguish sweep over him, sure that his companion would take the gold for himself, but much to his astonishment and relief, his friend chose the stone. The second beggar then snatched up the gold coin with the alacrity of a hawk, and the Djinn vanished as abruptly as he had appeared.

      The two men resumed their road. The one who had the gold coin could not contain the wonder of his good fortune. How lucky I am, he cried out happily, When we get to town, I shall have meat and wine and the company of a good woman for the night! What a fool you were, my friend, to have taken that rock!

      It pleases me well enough, replied the other, and then said no more. The gold bearer continued to prattle on about the things he would buy, and the times he would have. Every few moments he would whistle and caper, or laugh outright.

      The stone bearer remained quiet. In his pocket, he held fast to the stone, silently fingering its irregular contours, trying to recall in which street the gem cutter lived. When delivered up to the craft, it was much as he had suspected: Never before had such a diamond been seen in the land.

      Virgil

      There was once a young man named Virgil who wanted to do the right thing. He was very kind and helpful to people in distress, and he was always trying to solve other peoples’ problems. Unfortunately, Virgil could never figure out what to do with his own life. You see, Virgil wanted to know the answers to questions such as: What’s the meaning of it all? What is the point of being here on Earth and What in the hell is love, anyhow? He would ponder and he would wonder, and then he would go out and take care of someone else’s difficulties, so he wouldn’t have to face his own.

      Because they could see that he was kind and good and he often meant well, many girls had knocked on the door to Virgil’s heart, but to no avail. Try as they might, no girl could ever live up to Virgil’s expectations because no one—including Virgil—knew what his expectations were. It was almost as if his heart were a wall of stone, and girls would toss their hearts out to him, only to have them bounce back in their faces. Of course, Virgil didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. He simply reasoned (and rightly so) that you couldn’t love someone just because they loved you.

      Several times, Virgil thought he’d found the one, that he was in love, but more often than not, it turned out that the girl simply had an extensive set of problems that he could tinker with or a life he could help overhaul. When the task was complete, Virgil concluded that he hadn’t really been in love after all.

      There were other times Virgil thought he was in love, as well, but in these instances, the objects of Virgil’s desire were women who, for whatever reason—that, like Virgil, they didn’t know how; that they were in love with someone else; or they just plain didn’t like the way his feet smelled—could never requite the emotions which Virgil felt might theoretically be what might potentially be construed as love, but then again, possibly not…

      Eventually, Virgil decided that he was getting nowhere fast, just spinning his wheels, and generally accomplishing not a whole hell of a lot, so he resolved to get away for awhile; away from the world of other peoples’ problems and the continual rain of rebounding hearts, in short, away from everyone who knew what love was when he did not.

      So, he packed up his tent and his knapsack and his sleeping bag and some supplies and he strode off into the woods. Virgil sought the most secluded and unassailable mountain peak, and he climbed, with great determination and in the face of staggering difficulty, up to a sheltered outcropping near the very top, and there, he made his camp.

      The moon came out and sailed across the heavens. The stars came out and transformed the night sky with myriad points of burning light. Virgil contemplated the moon and the stars and the night sky. Maybe they don’t know what love is, either, he thought.

      Maybe not, but the moon and the stars and the night sky were not of this Earth, and Virgil was; and even if the moon and the stars and the night sky did know what the point of it all was—including the true meaning of love—they weren’t telling Virgil.

      Even so, Virgil stayed on the mountain top, and he watched the moon, and he listened to the stars and the night sky, and he tried to decipher their messages to him, but a funny thing happened as he sat and he watched and

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