The Allegory Of The Three Red Birds

The darker red redbird, Travesty, was the stories dark girl and the tall redbird was the stories light boy, and Gentle, the younger redbird, was red, yellow, black, brown, and white. She could even turn blue. She could even quack like a duck. She became whoever and did whatever she wanted to. But I didn’t want any black or whites per say, cliché, in my book. And I didn’t want gated neighborhoods because the characters in my great book had places to go and people to see without looking suspicious. I already don’t have that much paper to begin with. If I used it up explaining where my characters are from and what they’re doing there, when I have a story to tell, I’d be worn out by the time I got to the action. If the people in my book had a tan or not, they would still scratch each other. If they had brown hair or blonde hair or black hair or red hair or gray hair or white hair or blue eyes or brown eyes or green eyes, they would still pull each other’s hair and poke each other in the eye. They wouldn’t like each other anyway because some people have a good personality and some people have a bad personality. Is how I understand group session. If they spoke the same garble they’d unite to become worse than they are. They’d always be up to something; they’d still gang up and chase the littlest one among them and take what they wanted and then get mad and collide with each other. I learned that much at the red brick house.