Our yearn to hint at winter bliss; When do children learn to expect death when leaves turn to pretty colours, said the amateur icon to the telephone totem pole. He told them, because they were young, escape would eat them alive but that they would be able to sing, until they were no longer able to sing. The stars sang the national anthem of sweaty disbelief, of coelacanth teeth. To scream loud enough to shatter the roof of a coral reef, and the words hope and home that sound the same, smell the-