Fables

I'm in the fetal position and it's not over yet, I realize.

Knot.
I am a wrapped up ligamentous vine. Prickly, even. Sap, sour. Jaundiced juice. "Once upon a time..." there was a girl, about 10, she seems, making wings out of papiermache. She scared her mother when she flew too close to

see, there is no end to the sentence. I can put a proper period (.) there, but that doesn't make it end.