O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet.

It would be kind of cool if we were actually made of clay. If we broke a finger or an arm, we could just go in to a human sculptor and they could mold us a new one and just smooth it into the socket. I imagine we’d be a little simpler – our symptoms would be easier to diagnose if we were made of only one material.

But then – we would likely be simpler in thought, too, if we were made of solid clay. Our thoughts would be clay. Our emotions – clay. Our imaginations – only clay.


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