From bccfb001ad3c250c2fd7c11b92c247abefe8233e Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001
From: Case Duckworth
Date: Sat, 18 Apr 2015 13:59:29 -0700
Subject: Move frontmatter to front-matter; add colophon

---
 text/epigraph.txt | 34 ----------------------------------
 1 file changed, 34 deletions(-)
 delete mode 100644 text/epigraph.txt

(limited to 'text/epigraph.txt')

diff --git a/text/epigraph.txt b/text/epigraph.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index 2dc2c13..0000000
--- a/text/epigraph.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,34 +0,0 @@
----
-title: epigraph
-subtitle: "– Sylvia Plath"
-genre: prose
-
-id: epigraph
-toc: "_epigraph_"
-
-project:
-    title: Elegies for alternate selves
-    class: elegies
-    order: 1
-    next:
-    - title: How to read this
-      link: howtoreadthis
-    prev:
-    - title: Death's Trumpet
-      link: deathstrumpet
-...
-
-I saw my life branching out before me like the [green fig tree][] in the story.
-From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked.
-One fig was a husband and a happy home and children,
-and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor,
-and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor,
-and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America,
-and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of [other lovers][] and queer names and offbeat professions,
-and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
-I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to [death][], just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.
-I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
-
-[other lovers]: spittle.html
-[death]: deathstrumpet.html
-[green fig tree]: peaches.html
-- 
cgit 1.4.1-21-gabe81