Avalanche!

I stand atop an enormous mountain, far taller than Everest itself.

And speak but one thing which resonates perfectly for it is the truth.

And though I have but a tiny voice, few, if any, can hear... my words this day be mighty.

For they fall upon the starving masses who have long desired forbidden truths.

Like the Bells of Saint Christopher, it rings out, this little truth of mine - loud and clear - as if a clarion call to war.

Because it is the truth... something we have hardly known these past few millennia or so.

And so it gathers momentum as it rolls on down the line, gathering from all those who have been deceived, tormented, and left to die without succor or care, beneath the boot of the few who were morally corrupt enough to pave the way to the top - plowing over bodies of children and grandparents alike.

On, my little truth rolls, picking up all of the discarded truths that resonate just the same.  Each one just a tiny, seemingly insignificant thing.  But when viewed in total, amounts to a number far beyond counting...

And far far beyond counting - are the numbers of truths this one tiny drop collects, as it takes its natural course of least resistance.

On and on this momentous pile of hidden truths gives up its secrets.

On and on this little truth of mine resonates outward, constantly gathering more and more truths to its side, each one a voice someone else had silenced in their own vain pursuits.

One unimaginably tiny truth on top of another, on top of another.  Until eventually the mountain shrugs, and the avalanche falls...



Beware the Banshee, for the Banshee cries for you.

Hickory dickory dock.  The mouse ran up the clock.  The clock struck two the mouse ran down - Hickory dickory dock.

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