I don’t understand magic, I'm not sure anyone does, but I assume that’s what the moon decides, copies and pasta, she feeds us, American pie, four slices, forty cents, for when you’re deserving, the mountains and the valleys, a trained soldier, a swordsmen, it’s science, it’s technology, you may understand how it’s built, but not how it functions, all the connections, hub and spoke, editing and corrections, asking google is asking what the world knows, but god live there, they just don’t let you know…
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.