And quite frankly, Mr. Rogers notwithstanding, you‘re a mess. I mean, honestly. You just made the argument for the survival of your species and you didn‘t even mention a single female, except, presumably, half the condors. I don‘t know why you would even bring up the Internet.... One glance at that thing is the strongest argument possible against the sentience of humanity.

She took the story in like some strange, spiked gift, too fragile to drop, too painful to hold.

Earthworms are theologically neutral creatures, as far as I know.

She‘s an Irish goddess. If I give her a tiny glass of beer she will hurt me.

It was a smart idea, really smart. “How come Rowan never thought of this?” Zenna threw her head right back and laughed and laughed. “Oh, Steffie, Rowan would never, not in a hundred years, ask someone else to do her work for her!”
Dan grinned. “But you would?” “Absolutely!”

IT‘S A PORT CITY. Here fumes rust the sky, the General thought. Industrial gases flushed the evening with oranges, salmons, purples with too much red.

He wished very much that he could have fed the pigeons, but he had no food for them. They strutted up to him and cooed, not comprehending that a human could lack for something. (Photo by David Yu, 5/2/10, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/)