Some Canadian folklore I ran across recently:
Living a mere 6 miles from the center of the earth, they were creatures of habit, feeding on any bacteria that could withstand the pressure and heat of the environment. As their flesh ate through the molten rock in front of them, a steam filled fissure followed behind them.
Only one rogue specimen ventured out toward the crust.
When she broke through to the sunlight, no land dwellers noticed. The the energy that escaped her body thrust itself upon all of us.
The energy released at that moment will sustain us for a thousand years.
Imagine if we were still making up folk stories…
If I had a small child and didn’t want them to run across the street, I would probably make up some story about a streetcar driven by a ghost. The ghost would spend most of its time on one of the Ontario courthouses as a gargoyle or as a snake around someone’s neck. But, once in a while, it would commandeer a Queen streetcar and look for little children to hit. The story would end: “and that’s how your older brother that you never met died.”
I'm sure you can tell that my moustache is extra greasy today.
Ramk
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