My Cholera's Acting Up Again.

God Doesn't Like Lesbians," Grandma Huberman Hised, Throwing The Magazine In The Trash. Jennifer Knew What Lesbian Meant, And She Knew She Probably Was One. But She Couldn't Understand Why God Would Hold That Against Her Or Against Monica Mathers, Who'd Never Started A War Or Killed Anybody, And Whose Deadeye Three-pointers Were Straight-up Amazing. After All, Hadn't God Made Both Of Them? But People Were Like That, She'd Noticed. They'd Invoke Godly Privilege At The Weirdest Of Times And For The Most Stupid Reasons.

Did God Ever Cry Over His Lost Angel, I Wonder?

We've Barley Stepped Into The Bright Glow Of The Realms When Everything Goes Dark.

- So My Own Sister Will Not Promote Me? Speaking Of Which, Weren't You Supposed To Find Me A Beautiful Future Wife With A Small Fortune? Have You Had Any Success On That Front? - Yes - I Have Warned Them All.

I Have Done What They Expected Of Me. I Have Curtsied For My Queen And Made My Debut. This Is What I Have Anticipated Eagerly For Years. So Why Do I Feel So Unsatisfied? Everyone Is Merry. They Haven't A Care In The World. And Perhaps That Is It. How Terrible It Is To Have No Cares, No Longings. I Do Not Fit. I Feel Too Deeply And Want Too Much.