““What’s this about?” Meg demanded. Ananda merely thudded again, waking the kitten, who gave a halfhearted brrtt and stalked across the pillow. Meg looked at her battered alarm clock, which stood in its familiar place on the bookcase. The hands did not seem to have moved. “Whatever’s going on, I don’t understand.” Ananda whined softly, an ordinary whine coming from an ordinary dog of questionable antecedents, a mongrel like many in the village. “Gaudior,” Meg murmured. “More joyf...ul. That’s a good name for a unicorn. Gaudior, Ananda: that joy without which the universe will fall apart and collapse. Has the world lost its joy? Is that why we’re in such a mess?” She stroked Ananda thoughtfully, then held up the hand which had been pressing against the dog’s flank. It glowed with radiant warmth. “I told Charles Wallace I’m out of practice in kything. Maybe I’ve been settling for the grownup world.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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