The gods make soup. They bring it to a boil, skim off the foam, and touch the foam with their magic fingers. New creatures spring to life and race through their windy paradise.
It's a weird way to have a conversation. But go ahead. Then I'll find your blog (if you have one) and comment about something there. We probably won't be talking about the same thing--but I've had conversations like that, haven't you?
I'll just sit here and watch all night.
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