I like my gems best when they first come in the mail, before I’ve made them into anything. They make me feel that there is still magic left in the world.
Tonight I‘ll dream of the flood again. God did it before, when things were not so bad as now; next time you can be sure He will do something worse. Clouds fifty miles high. Impenetrable monsoons. My necklaces will be torn apart, the gems scattered to some beach head.
A child of the new world will find them, glittering.