STRUCK BY A WHIM, Erovan sniffed the banana patch palm of his hand, thereby enchanting himself (again) with a moment from the recent past.
He was not a flying spider. He was not an exiled cabinet member. He was not a soggy, half-helping of spinach in an abandoned milk carton. He was an unannounced recipient of a divine gift: a color nobody else in the world could see. This relationship between his rods and cones and the heavens above acted as a magnetic attraction to all things untethered. Continue reading “THE GODS OF FIRE NEVER LEFT THE EARTH”