A brilliant young strategist rises to the top of his class in Battle School while training to defend Earth against hostile aliens intent on exterminating a basic concrete patio. You dream. The vegetation here supplants heroism, we eat well for a while. Days pass, jumpiness extends to the horizon. Relay from satellite to say, Om, omphalos, belly button, purview. Could be ridiculous. We are innate, trying to work it out. Can we speak of other things or... Jumpiness is a principle. Topic sentence sits atop paragraph, and for a reason. Wish for less jumpiness, Cosmic Ones, because it crowds. Reminded that brilliant young strategists resume in jumpiness sometimes. Roy Rogers named his dog Bullet. He named his wife Patio. He named himself Roy, a sliver of doubt that the French call king.
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