Flatten directory structure

All content files (*.txt, *.html, *.river) are now in /.
I did this to simplify the compilation step, and to make
linking easier.  I'm still thinking about whether I should
move the contents of js/, img/, and lua/ into /, or into
an 'assets' folder of some sort.  We'll see.

1 files changed, 0 insertions, 46 deletions

@@ -1,46 +0,0 @@
----
-title: Feeding the raven
-id: feedingtheraven
-genre: prose
-
-project:
-    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    class: elegies
-    order: 11
-    prev:
-    - title: The angel to Abraham
-      link: angeltoabraham
-    next:
-    - title: On formal poetry
-      link: onformalpoetry
-...
-
-You never can tell just when Charlie Sheen will enter your life.
-For me, it was last Thursday.
-I was reading some translation of a Japanese translation of "The Raven" in which the Poe and the raven become friends.
-At one point the raven gets very sick and Poe feeds him at his bedside and nurses him back to health.
-The story was very heartwarming and sad at the same time and my tears were welling up when suddenly I heard a knock on my door.
-
-I shuffled over, sniffling but managing to keep my cheeks dry to open it.
-Of course Charlie was beaming on the other side, with a bag of flowers and a grin like a [dog][]'s.
-He bounded in the room without saying hello and threw the flowers in the sink, opened the refrigerator and started poking around.
-I said "It's nice to see you too" and went to my room to get a camera, as well as a notebook for him to sign.
-
-When I came back he was on the floor, hunched and groaning.
-I looked on the table to see a month-old half-gallon of milk---now cottage cheese---half-empty and dripping.
-The remnants were on his mouth, and at once I saw my chance to become Poe in this [translation of a translation][] of a translation.
-I knelt next to Charlie, cradled his head in my lap.
-He looked up at me with a stare full of terror.
-I returned it levelly, making cooing noises at him until he calmed down.
-
-When he was calm he excused himself to be sick on my toilet.
-He wouldn't let me follow but said he would sign whatever I liked when he got back.
-After half an hour passed and all I'd had for company was the ticking of the [clock][], I went to the bathroom door.
-I knocked carefully---once, then twice---to no beaming face, no flowers.
-I opened the door.
-There was shit on the floor and the window was open.
-There was a breeze blowing.
-
-[dog]: purpose-dogs.html
-[translation of a translation]: todaniel.html
-[clock]: boar.html