Yes, Charlotte's web is a metaphor. My favorite passages in the book describe Charlotte at work, tearing out threads, weaving and dropping and spinning words into something amazing. It's no coincidence that the very next chapter after the above passage is titled "The Miracle."
I have been thinking, cogitating, meditating on the poem I'm going to write for my brother's funeral. Ideas are starting to coalesce. I don't want to do an elegy. Nothing with lines like "Death, be not proud" or crap like that. I want something more uplifting. It's going to be difficult enough without me adding to the tears.
I'm hoping to have a rough draft by tomorrow night. A new web. Or at least the start of one. That means I need to start weaving by tonight. The writing process will certainly help me get through this weekend.
Speaking of rough drafts...
Fritz worked on the rock every day, slowly chipping away at the marble until something
Word soon spread throughout the
The Royal Engineer slowly circled the rock, inspecting it. Then he turned to Fritz. "The demolition crew will be here tomorrow morning," he said. "Your rock will be destroyed by nightfall."
The Royal Engineer smiled. "We are going to be constructing a new
The next morning, the demolition crew arrive, and by the afternoon, Fritz's unicorn was gone. Within six months, a new road and Walmart and
Moral of the story: People like
And Saint Marty
|Sometimes a horn is just a horn|