Cavewoman squats in red mud. Far away a star had exploded. Waves from the nova nudge her neurons. The first artist paints her cave crimson.
Cavewoman squats in red mud. Far away a star had exploded. Waves from the nova nudge her neurons. The first artist paints her cave crimson.
Jefferson’s voice rose in anger. We didn’t believe him. “There were flies. I remember them.” We shook our heads. “I’m sure there were.”