By beigebloke
The Anvil and the Cheesemaker
Early one morning an anvil was considering its lot. 'I'm an anvil', it thought. 'I am strong, steadfast, dependable. But sometimes I hear others speak of ambitions and hopes for the future. I would like to do the same, but I cannot. Strength and consistency are so central to my being that I cannot even imagine what it would be like to be otherwise. When I dream, I dream only of anvils.'. Presently, a cheesemaker entered the forge to speak with the blacksmith. She wanted a big metal cheese to hang outside her shop. The blacksmith agreed to take on the work. All day the blacksmith worked hard on the anvil, completing the cheese late that night and leaving it in the forge with mind to deliver it the next day. That night the anvil, metallic cheese by its side, slept deeper than ever before, and dreamed again of anvils - but this time, of anvils showered with beautiful gold stars.
Moral:
If you lose your sofa, try looking inside a biro.