"And I want to rise up, throw my arms open for a vast embrace, address an ample, luminous discourse to the invisible crowds. I would start like this: "O rainbow-colored gods. . ."

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We don't have an address," I said, "but we do know where he works." "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Vee asked, eyes brightening briefly through the haze of chemical sedation. "Based on past experience, I hope not.

— Becca Fitzpatrick