From Issue 16: Visit to a Small Planet

D.G. Geis   No telling what He thinks—or if. His ears, a zillion light years wide, pressed to the fizzy heart of the universe, a hydrogen gasbag folded in on itself like table napkins on the Hindenburg, an omelet, or a quantum quesadilla. What we call spiral galaxies, He calls soup and sandwiches. What we…

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