WEEBOLA AFTER-BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT.
“Poka-honches gave you a special chip,” Moon Mother whispered in Weebola’s third ear. “Like the Native Americans, you have the extra sensoring ability to allow your physical self to be “invisible.”
“Even when I have a bad hair day, when I pull out my extensions like last week?” the fledgling Goddess shed a tear, a green turquoise crystal that would become a birthmark. “This is all TMI: Too much information for me to take in.”
“Wee Bola there is no need to understand. It is what it Is,” moon mother picked some stray pearls from her gown. “It’s already in you, simply reach inside your Wee Being when in need of support”
Reach inside? Weebola saw a psychic surgeon from the Philadelphiapinnes, drippy red ungloved hands poked around inside someone’s bloated guts.
“See I told you,” the make-believe miracle surgeon held up a greenish “liver” though WeeB had an inkling it had been planted. She told about her vision to the Goddesses gathered for Wee B’s launch down to Earth. Continue reading