Quote:Max: Then I wondered back again, and the Princes were standing near the fence watching with half-sleepy eyes, and I found a tiny fallen bird-nest under a tree, blown down empty by the wind. It was woven of thinnest thread-like pale grasses and coarser brown and black horse hairs, and smaller in shape and circumference than a brown hen egg.
I am now lost somewhere in North America
Prairie wind and blowing grasses has tangled my hair like the hummingbird nest, and I sent it to my Love.
I do not understand basic arithmetic, you know.
Instead of becoming zero, somehow Max's Thread divided and multiplied into three strands, and my task now is to weave them back again into one coherent braid, as I go on telling the stories of a few american people in the Time of the End, which seems to be, in other words, maybe, the last years of the O administration, ( but who knows; don't quote me on that.) .