Words put into tangible form spark the curiosity of our deepest perceptions. And now, straight ahead, he saw his son dangling from a rope. His body, limp as a marionette without a puppeteer. Where had God gone? He thought. He stepped forward and was buried alive. How many single lines woven together form one arm? Life .

Experiments of the Next Generation. He took me in the middle of the night. I woke up in a barn disoriented, cold, and not at all surprised. I knew who it was and why I had been stolen. It had just been a matter of time. My wrists were bound to the wooden pole behind me, and my ankles had been securely tied with rope. Well look who decided to wake up. You never could seem to wake up before noon . I needed no saddle, he was.