… is what I published this fine holiday week. It’s not erotica, or arousing in the slightest.

I’d say it’s rather amusing, in an abstract way.

I would also say it’s a Malthusian meditation on what we have left in the world, and how our own little decisions ripple out across the globe, like the butterfly’s wing-wind crescendoes to hurricane a hemisphere away.

But if I said that, I’d be pretentious. So let’s just say it’s a story about making babies.

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