H.o.p. thrusts a paper in front of my face and in his nasal cold sneezy voice says, “Guess what that is?”
Blobs with faces.
“That’s smoke and that’s pollution. They were the bad things let out of Pandora’s Box.”
Yes, indeed the ills of the world released from Pandora’s Box.
“Except for hope,” H.o.p. says. “Hope was left.”
I think now is not the age to discuss with H.o.p. that some people believed hope was a curse.