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Urania opens an oft untouched cabinet door. She shuns the dusty top of the stack and selects one below.
Crumbs stick to Thalia’s shiny gloss. “Is it meeeeeee? Or does this taste — yuuuuh-me-er?”
“Not just you…” Calliope dabs the corners of her smile with a napkin. “Deliciousness is a state of mind… and when we allow our senses to guide us to our preferences… tiny nibbles are delicacies.”
Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.
~ Anton Chekhov