Meandering in space and time in a tiny, fragile, enclosed vessel, quite soft on the outside, many spiny and brittle parts on the inside. Currently in an ongoing argument with the universe, in which we are sitting across the room from each other sulking, stealing glances when the other isn’t looking, wanting to make up, but not wanting to make the first move. As near as I can remember, this stalemate is now in its fourth decade. Any minute now, I think we’re going to fall into each other’s arms sobbing with relief and go out for ice cream.
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