A siren wailed. A siren wailed. A siren wailed and this annoyingly hyperactive thing called earth spun itself into the day, and with a totally obnoxious twentysomething-degree tilt, impulsively decided to trace out another 1.6 million miles of its favorite ellipse onto the egocentric fabric of spacetime. Onto the nothing-new firmament of past and future history. Because after roughly four billion years of this oh-so-starry routine, like what else was there to do? . . .
