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I walked into the bookstore earlier, arms extended, flapping them like a bird.

"Look at me," I said to the first Barnes & Noble greeter. "I"m flying." She looked at me alright with an uncomprehending mask covered face and alarmed eyes.

I kept going, turned the corner, to find Tennyon in the poetry section.

Do I know how to make a dramatic entrance, or what? Lord Tennyson deserves poetic respect.