Of Monsters, Seven

A Tapestry of Twisted Threads in Folio

Mothers no longer name their sons ‘Adolph’. Almost everyone knows why. Though all innocent babes do not develop into monsters, all monsters develop from innocent babes. We prefer fiction to reality, because thoughts of the former easily yield to denials of reason, while the latter only reminds us of our common origins in the primitive.

Steal a private moment now and listen to your inner voice. It whispers. Such twisted threads weave life’s strange tapestry. Of depravity, here find endless expositions, and of monsters, seven.