c It was a thin white sliver of paper, light as a leaf freshly fallen from a tree,

but not nearly as insignificant. When the paper was held in a slightly curved
position, it looked like a cut-out crescent moon²and such was its esteem, that it
rivaled the (real) moon¶s attentions. When it was held, it was held with the highest
dignity, the dignity reserved for when the mayor shook hands with the truck driver
who¶d brought in the latest shipment of life-saving cheese, the dignity one used
when holding a bottle of newly opened, centuries-aged wine.

It was a Form, and those were all the words you needed to make crowds part
before you, as neatly as a barbered hairline; those were all the words you needed to
make the little boys and girls, playing outside during recess, look up at you with
curiosity and admiration. Everyone knew that it was a Form, the Form, their Form.
No one knew exactly what it was a
, but that was a small and inconsequential
matter²everyone knew that it was important, as such a Form would typically be.

The origins of the Form were shrouded in mystery. It must have emerged
from some printing press, in some government office, somewhere, but this was
hard to believe. The townspeople came up with hundreds of analogies. It was like
saying that the gods emerged from mortal women, or that the luscious,
ambrosial²practically holy²notes of those casks of wine had their start in a mere,
secular, country vineyard²or that the soft rich taste and texture of the best cheese
truly came from those dirty little goats that bleated on the side of the road! Of
course²as the town¶s one college student pointed out later, Dionysus¶s mother
was mortal, the casks of wine  come from that particular vineyard, and (hard as
it was to believe) that cheese truly had its start in a goat udder. He was much
reviled afterwards for pointing out the analogies¶ shortcomings, but they could
always make some new ones when he wasn¶t around.

The townspeople liked the mystery, intrigue, and altogether-importance-and-

seeming-intellectualness-and-dignity of the Form as much as they disliked Daniel
(the town¶s one college student) and his everyday ability to sound much smarter
than they did. After all, Daniel was a college student and he was learning things; he
even advised the mayor on occasion. The townspeople thought that Daniel was
becoming too smart for his own good. He had no respect for any of the town
customs. He had an odd smile²as though he was resisting the urge to laugh²
when whoever was carrying the Form came through the market and people stopped
what they were doing and stepped to the side in youthful reverence. He did not. He
would continue walking²sometimes, in the other direction, turning his back on
the Form! At the local tavern, he often talked of finding out what the Form really
did, until inevitably someone got him tackled and thrown out of the tavern.

The townspeople groaned when they heard that Daniel had come to stay
with his family for two months while college was on break. They braced
themselves for more incidents, more clashes between Daniel and someone who
properly respected the Form. And the incidents came. By the twelfth day of his
stay, he could no longer count the incidents on his fingers (and just barely with his
toes included). He had violent encounters with the dry-goods store owner, with his
next-door neighbor (that nice lady who baked the tea-cakes!), with the school
janitor²heaven forbid it (and the pious crossed themselves as they related the
tale), he even got into a scuffle with his own uncle! As he walked the streets, the
children out playing looked at him with mistrust and scowls. When Daniel came,
the smiles brought on by the Form were replaced with frowns.

Finally, Daniel had had enough. He was walking with a college friend,
Marc, through a short-cut, a narrow alleyway, when he heard a loud splash behind
him. He turned around to see a spreading pool of smelly yellow liquid on the
ground. Looking up, he saw a flabby (and furious) lady, red hair in pigtails off the
side of her round face, holding a chamber pot.

³The next one¶ll be on your head!´ she threatened, cackling.

³C¶mon, let¶s go,´ Daniel muttered, grabbing his rather shaken friend by the
arm. They ran through the alleyway, pausing for breath once they¶d reached the
other end.

³I can¶t believe that lady did that,´ Marc marveled. ³I mean²did you see
her²µThe next one¶ll be on your head!¶´ He mimicked her in disbelief. ³Was she
drunk? They really don¶t like you, do they?´

³Apparently not,´ Daniel growled. ³I¶ve had enough. They¶re just

intolerable. All because of the stupid Form. You know what, I will do it.´

³What?´ Marc asked, alarmed.

 ³I¶m going to find out what the silly Form is about,´ Daniel said, dragging
every word through his teeth as though he were straining the moisture out of
laundry. ³If it¶s about anything other than bureaucratic gibberish, I¶ll fill it out and
get something done instead of parading it around town back and forth between
government offices. If it  bureaucratic gibberish that doesn¶t do anything, then I
will bring it to the next town hall meeting, read it out loud so that everyone can see
how ridiculous it is, and²´ his eyes lit up with a demonic fire ³²I will rip the
Form into tiny pieces right before their very eyes.´

Accessing the Form was no easy task. It was held in the town hall¶s
Archives wing²little more than a drab slab of concrete, but filled with endless
shelves of papers, documents, records, archives, and, of course, Forms. With as
bad a reputation as he had about the Form, Daniel knew there was no chance they
would just let him in to touch it. No, he would have to use
more«covert«techniques. First he asked around. He asked when the Form would
come back from its trip to another governmental building, when it would be re-
installed in the Archives building. Five minutes before that time, he walked into
the Archives building and asked the receptionist, innocuously enough, where all
the city forms were kept, that he had to grab a Form for Educational Transfer for
his nephew who was switching schools. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman in
an orange tweed skirt, nodded, barely looking up at him, and pointed him off to a
long aisle of papers, where they were alphabetically sorted. He would find it under
T, she said, for transfer, subtopic E, for education.

Daniel walked off to the forms section and pulled out the Form for
Educational Transfer. He pretended to read it, while out of the corner of his eye, he
was watching the three men, in thick, liveried winter coats (though it was
midsummer), who were striding very importantly into the Archives center. They
were holding a thin glass case, and inside the glass case, was the Form. He
watched interestedly as they opened the case²no key was required, he noted²and
took the form out with worshipful hands, handing it to the receptionist. Daniel
moved slightly so that he could see what she did with it. She opened a long, very
flat drawer in her desk and, slowly and carefully, placed the Form inside. Closing
the drawer, she looked up at the three men and said something which Daniel could
not hear. They glanced toward him and he quickly pretended to be reading the
transfer form.
 After the three men had gone and the receptionist settled down, Daniel
walked quickly over to her and said, in as normal a voice as he could,

³Excuse me? The form requires a signature from the School Manager. Is he
in the office today?´

³I will go check with the town hall. One moment please,´ the receptionist
said monotonously, and she rose up from her chair, walking quickly and
professionally in her orange high heels (she seemed to like orange), she left the
room. Immediately after she had left the room, Daniel sprinted to her side of the
desk, where he yanked open the drawer, grabbed the Form, stuffed it into his coat,
and walked swiftly outside. There was no one inside or outside the Archives wing,
but he ran back home anyway. He dashed up to his room, where he sat down
excitedly and began reading the Form. It read:

³THE FORM.

HERETOFORE TO BE KNOWN AS THE FORM FOR THE

PARTICULAR USAGES OF THEN-SAID DERIVATIONS OF
GOVERNMENTAL PROCESSES AS SUCH TO BE APPROPRIATED AT
GIVEN TIMES AFTER, WHEN IS DEEMED FIT BY AFORESAID
GOVERNMENTAL PROCESSES (PARTICULAR USAGES OF, REF.), NONE
WHETHER GIVEN, OF SUCH BELOW PARTICIPLES. IS:

SIGNED: ________________________

WITNESSED: ____________________

DATED: _________________________

SIGNED: ________________________

REF. NUMBER: __________________

REF. NUMBER 2: ________________

DERIVATION: __________________

APPROPRIATION: ______________´
 Daniel howled²he literally howled. He laughed insanely, throwing the
Form down on his table. It was complete and utter gibberish²and the crowds
parted for this? They made a glass case for this? It was unreadable, indefinable,
and, Daniel was fairly sure, unexplainable, whether by the lowest street urchin or
the mayor himself. He would bring this to the town hall meeting²oh, he would
bring it indeed.

In the town hall, they were preparing to put the Form back in its glass case
when they noticed that the Form was gone. Immediately there was panic in the
Archives. They had to parade out the Form for the town hall meeting, as was
custom, and the Form? It was absolutely nowhere to be seen!

People were starting to fill the town hall lawn, waiting expectantly for the
Form to appear. The mayor was on the verge of canceling the entire thing²and
that was when Daniel showed up. Out of his coat he produced the Form. The
crowd cheered²the Form was back²and the mayor shook his hand, saying,

³Thank you for saving the Form,´ reaching his hand out expectantly for it,
when Daniel leapt away²leaving the mayor in a state of unpleasant uncertainty²
and shouted, unfurling the Form,

³I bring this Form, not so much to give back to the town, as to show you its
contents! Does anyone know what this Form does?´

There was murmuring and general head-shaking in the audience.

³Do you not find it odd that you practically worship, you stand to the side,
you do not move when this Form passes, when you have no idea what this Form
does?´ he demanded. ³Do you not find this odd? This Form could send all of your
children to a different school«´ he looked threateningly at the mothers in the
audience. ³This form could strip you of all your land«´ he looked piercingly at
the landlords. ³Or«perhaps«this form«could be COMPLETE and UTTER
GIBBERISH!´ He roared, holding up the Form, ³Listen to this!´ He read off the
page,

³THE FORM.
 HERETOFORE TO BE KNOWN AS THE FORM FOR THE
PARTICULAR USAGES OF THEN-SAID DERIVATIONS OF
GOVERNMENTAL PROCESSES AS SUCH TO BE APPROPRIATED AT
GIVEN TIMES AFTER, WHEN IS DEEMED FIT BY AFORESAID
GOVERNMENTAL PROCESSES (PARTICULAR USAGES OF, REF.), NONE
WHETHER GIVEN, OF SUCH BELOW PARTICIPLES.´

He looked at the terrified mayor with such a fiery glance that the poor little
man felt he was going to melt away, and demanded,

³Mayor! Can you explain what this means?´

The mayor shook his head, one tiny little shake.

³People! Can you explain what this means?´

They shook their heads in unison, hearts beating quicker and quicker as they
looked at the unfortunate Form in the scoundrel¶s hands.

³Then I propose that we should rid ourselves of this troublesome Form!´ he

shouted, hands primed to rip it to shreds. But at that split-second moment, every
mother, father, child, man, woman, teenager, grandfather, grandmother, city
official, and especially the fond-of-orange Archives receptionist, leapt up from
their seats and p
 themselves at Daniel. In the scuffle that ensued, Daniel
found himself pummeled, slapped, kicked, punched, bitten, and, worse of all,
nearly punctured in the cheek by a very sharp pair of orange stiletto heels. The
Form was wrested out of his hands²as delicately handled as Daniel was
roughly²and passed to the relieved mayor.

Daniel was taken to the local hospital for his injuries and treated summarily.
The people who had tackled Daniel got their names in the local paper, and the
fond-of-orange receptionist, plump red-haired maid, and surprisingly mild-
mannered greengrocer who had been largely responsible for retrieving the form
were profiled on the front page. People muttered about Daniel, said things like
³Always knew he was too smart for his own good,´ and ³His poor family²how
ashamed they must feel.´
 And the Form? It still made crowds part, as neatly as a barbered hairline;
those were all the words you needed to make the little boys and girls, playing
outside during recess, look up at you with curiosity and admiration. Everyone
knew that it was a Form, the Form, their Form. And now that everyone knew
exactly what it was for²how grand those words sounded, how smart they were²
since even the mayor could not comprehend them!²its power was not only
retained, but it gained fame. The tale of Daniel and the Form was remembered in
infamy, passed down from generation to generation. For, they said later about it,
whosoever tried to hurt the Form, with its particular usages, heretofore¶s,
derivations, participles, and all, was trying to hurt the town. The problem with
Daniel, they remarked, was that he thought that Forms were for doing things. And
that, said the analogy-makers in training, was like saying that that p 
wine
was for drinking, or the cheese was for eating«although...

No, they decided, they would come up with a better analogy, one that even
Daniel could not defeat. Just as Dionysus had come from Semele, a mortal, so too
had the Form come from some temporal printing press. But just as Dionysus had
gained immortal godliness, so too had the Form gained respect, power«and
something very close to worship.

THE END.