… 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.