Recently, in a certain group I'm involved in, gossip reigned supreme.
It was fascinating to watch (I mean listen...) as three separate events turned and twisted and grew within just a few hours into a mess of crime, drama, illness, and heroism. Even more fascinating (and troubling) was how quickly people believed it all.
It reminded me of a story (By Hans Christian Anderson) I read a very long time ago about a good natured hen who lost a feather while preening one evening. By the end of the story, the chicken's innocent remark about losing that feather is passed on from one bird to another, and turns into a wild story about the suicidal deaths of five lovesick hens who have allegedly plucked all of their feathers in solidarity with the first hen. The story is so enlarged with fantasy, that the original hen, when the story gets back to her, has no idea that the gossip was started by her losing one single white feather.
That's how I felt on Monday when I heard "the news".
I wish I could share more details, but then...
that would be gossip. :)