During the Epiphany Mass this, Gabrielle turned to me, pointed at the three Kings in the nativity and asked, "Are those the Wise Men?"
I nodded and she asked, "Which one is Frankenstein?"
Percy Bysshe Shelley lamented that the words of a poet are like fading embers, unable to capture the true fire of inspiration. These words of mine struggle to capture the uncapturable moments of life so that I may look upon their fading glow and remember the true fire.
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