Best of the setup. Bom's people would dis- agree of course. " Bom felt no anger at her words. There was no shame in being considered inferior to one's Home. Even after many seven-days.

And then when he was sure they were resigned to the situation he'd started to smell. No one knew where it came from. It was not associated with any known orifice. It was just that after five minutes' doze the air above Greebo had a penetrating smell of fermented carpets. He was now trying it out on the very large man. It wasn't working. At last.
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It or Not! that I first began to see how fine the line between the fabulous and the humdrum could sometimes be and to understand that the juxtaposition of the two did as much to illuminate the ordinary aspects of life as it did to illuminate its occasional weird outbreaks. Remember it's belief we're talking about here and belief is the cradle of myth. What about reality you ask? Well as far as I'm concerned reality can go take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut. I've never held much of a brief for reality at least in my written work. All too often it is to the imagination what ash stakes are to vampires. I think that myth and imagination are in fact nearly interchangeable concepts and that belief is the wellspring of both. Belief in what? I don't think it matters very much to tell you the truth. One god or many. Or that a dime can derail a.
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