857. A story of spurious authenticity © Bruce Goodman 14 February 2016 |
Saint Valentine was walking along the road singing hymns and divine canticles, when he espied the farmer’s daughter sitting in front of the barn brushing her golden hair with a silver comb. He wolf-whistled. WOW! He couldn’t believe it! He’d never seen such a valuable comb. Back to Story Listings Next Story Previous Story |