Street scene, not.

Do we have a fable here, Aesop? Do we have a haiku, Basho?

I for one don't want no quotidian business around here. The hen could grow, grow immensely, snatch the dog and fly away. Fly over white clouds on a deep blue sky, over blue mountains overlooking a gorgeous valley. The closed shop shutter could be hiding a magic caveway to a magic castle. The xerox machine could be no ordinary xerox machine, it could be a magic xerox machine --

Wait, this must be the effect of watching too many Miyazaki movies. I usually sleep a dreamless, memoryless sleep, but last night in the dream I was looking at myself in a mirror. Most hair was gone. There were bad, big, dark, green warts on the skull. A few odd patches of hair remained. Eyes, I don't remember much about them --

Right, there's something called too much Miyazaki.