The woman at the lectern turns toward him in molasses-time and it is indeed her, Keeta Januari, the Whore of Babylon. Dos Orsos didn’t answer. “I’ve heard stories. The spark, we called it.
Samsa let the elephants free when it looked like everybody was going to die, him included. Yet I could see the sun in that haze, a spark low on the horizon, and facing it a half-full Saturn, much bigger than the Moon in Earth’s sky. “I’m not sure. But always keeping just ahead, teasing the kid with the idea that at any moment his luck will change, that his legs will get
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