The fire came down from Heaven. My mother can see the future; she thinks the
planet's orbit will bring it into view in two million years. My cat gained the gift of scholarship. It's heartbreaking, watching her pore over
those tomes; she can't read. Myself, I
have a miraculous tissue. Feel it; it is
always damp, but never quite breaks.
Supposedly, someone out there has the gift of interpretation
to tell us what all these signs and portents mean.
Yesterday, I stepped on a snail whose antennae were crowned
by a tongue of flame. I hope it wasn't
the one.
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