So many books. So little time.
Truth trudged sadly down the road. His shoulders sagged, a frown creased his brow. Multi-hued fable danced by his side.
"Why is it," truth asked his friend, "that people don’t listen to me? We say the same things — you and I."
"Let me tell you a story," replied fable.
A man was walking down a road. It was a warm and balmy day, but the man had a jacket on. The wind whistled as it blew past him.
"Look at that human in a thick woolen jacket," he said to the sun. "I'm sure I can get him to take it off."
The sun smiled.
The wind roared past the man. Whoosh. Whoosh. It gathered strength as it blew in from all directions. However, the louder the wind roared the more the man clutched his jacket to himself. Soon the wind grew tired.
"I give up," he said. "Some people will never learn. You try, sun."
It was a warm and balmy day. The man whistled as he walked. "The day seems to be made of gold," he said to himself.
The sun shone a little warmer. A few beads of sweat formed on the man’s brow but he wiped them off. The sun grew hotter. The man looked around. The heat was now uncomfortable and the jacket just made things worse. He took it off, folded it over his arm.
The sun smiled.
"And that", said fable, "is what I do. Take your bare words and dress them up in all the colors of the rainbow. I am the suggestion, not the force. I am the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine go down. I am the honey…"
"Enough,” replied truth. “You are the costume I don in the world of men."