I am saving your son from an eternity of his own making. The dance is in me no less than in all of the other shepherds of their individual interpretation of God, as a collective of stars, or only one? Could belief be the next ability to spread through us to make us miracle makers, creators of our next order? I believe it will be without a doubt. Keep all hands, legs, or any appendage whatsoever outside of the yellow rails. (What yellow rails?) I can't tell you how many people came and asked me if I was God's child. (Those rails, if you could consider them that, are red.) Reds a horrid color for rails! Dreadful! (Absolutely.) © 2014 Mark Richard Prime
(The Weaver's Song)