They did not set out to disappoint their father, not on purpose, but neither did they wish to shoulder the lumpy, enervating burden of the mundane.

“Dear Diplodicus; dear Pterosaur; dear Trilobite; dear Mastodon, dear Dodo, dear…”

“Murderess, murderess, he whispers to himself. It has an allure, a scent almost.…”

“Happy as a clam, is what my mother says for happy. I am happy as a clam: hard-s…”

“We thought we were running away from the grownups, and now we are the grownups.”