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The future is a cone, a coneof possibilities extendingfrom the presentpoint.The coneis moving throughspace-time, following aforward arrow, unipolar, directedtowards tomorrow. Our future manifestsout of a cloud of probability from within the cone. The future is precisely unknown, but looming, a microsecond away, then proceeding into a widening blur of possibility.Continue Reading

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Dr. Harry Porter ran his long slender surgeon’s fingers through his thick dark hair. He was new to medicine in some ways and not so new in others. He had been doctoring and innovating since before he was ten. The stories he could tell. A neighborhood cat had had itsContinue Reading

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Don’t let an imploding star as seen through some mega-lens telescope worry you for our ancient fiery orb. Your words are measured by a sputter of hydrogen, the treason of nitrogen, the unwillingness of breathable air to stick around when suns give up the flaming ghost. Your ideas, even onContinue Reading

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First, the cost of blood work and biopsies to analyze the contents and properties of your state of ill- or well-being. The cost of prescription drugs to regulate your bodily functions after your deductible or Medicare allowable discount or amount. The cost of physical therapy to improve the limited motionContinue Reading

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It’s let’s-see time.Let’s see what’s in the dharmictelescope.Let’s see out therethat something in the Universeis about to happento someone in the galactic somewhere.I could be the one present,cosmically inclined,when it tumbles like magic.Or you might be the oneto mystically greet this astral happeningsomeplace in between monkey brainand Buddha mind.It’s goingContinue Reading

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I’m riding with the sun to my life’s longest day, one eye to the moon at my back, drawing me down into winter’s deep waters, where every year it’s harder to rise again to the surface, weighted by my bones. But the sun pulls me into buoyant warmth and IContinue Reading

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New stars flicker in the late spring hedgesas hawthorns glimmer bright white againstgrey skies still sullen with winter as theirstamens blink in the chilly east wind thatgusts and makes the fresh leaves shiveras bluebells drift the banks, a ceruleanpromise of cloudless summer heavens. Kate Meyer-Currey was born in 1969 andContinue Reading