I have castrated my brother he said living in his fantasy world along with the other kids.
His brother lay on the ground writhing in pain from the injury caused by the child standing over him.
Nothing can ever change this back. He is forever scarred by this act, but then this not real. Nothing is.
Having read the book about teaching how to fry eggs he was troubled by the fact that there had been
nothing written about the chicken that had laid the eggs. This puzzled him.
Accepting the eggs as they are and not asking yourself where they came from seemed to him to be only asking for or telling half the tale.
He searched through the whole book but could find nothing. Should he give up or go and search elsewhere?
If the latter where? And could he even trust his findings when he found it?
He decided not. However, he would make the investigation anyway.
Fruitless as it may and probably would turn out to be it had to be made. His curiosity had to be partly if not fully satiated.

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