There is a place where people go to find an answer to the questions that they ask over and over and every day,
and sometimes they find what they are looking for, and sometimes they find they needed something entirely different and they just had to ask the wrong question to get the right answer,
and on the streets of a city, night after night, people ask “Why?” as the life drains from their bodies, and they say “Whoa!” as the life drains from their minds,
and the haze is so dark, and the light is real, and the tea turned lukewarm as they pondered it all.
Next day came the penguin with the sure-footed limp, and everyone laughed until tears and sobs sprang from their hearts.
“I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going,” someone said. “But I think the answer was whispered in my ear while I was shouting.”
And they lived, happily, forever after.
