Somehow, and maybe several times if ever,

Somehow, and maybe several times if ever, at an indefinite moment of the day when the seasons themselves were unclear, I might have been brushed by the vaguest of presentiments

which could have resembled foreboding. Yet this was likely met with an uncertain amount of faint, transient hope mingled with a startling sense of indecision. An anonymous vehicle

"was given a name that day. That name would be written in the historybooks and for some reason in the wheels of shoppingcarts. And to tell you all about it here's MR.WANDERSSON."

Mr. Wandersson walked out on the ivory platform. The crowd was much uglier than he'd imagined. Well, it was that part of the country. But instead of going with the program he said

"Standing in front of you all today, I should be telling you take the world by the balls but instead I am going to tell you about Golf Girl. We were both 14. She was rich & I was

stinks of sewage." Her mother was on to me despite becoming a stockbroker. We would never be together. Then it dawn on me how would a wealthy golf club owner know sewer smell?!

They were a varmint in a past life! How to verify this? I went to the karma library. The rodent in charge was at the door wearing a fedora. "Hello," he said in Rattish. I answered

"Yes, I would like to look up my family tree to see if indeed I was a rodent in a former life." The rat librarian gave me the stink eye. "It don't work like dat," he said, slamming

the door. But, a few seconds later, just as I thought, the door opened. Nothing opens doors like a degree from MIT and being a Kennedy, I mused.