Spring winds are cruel. Only moments after her gentle caress had brought the trees into a riot of color, the wind abruptly swept away, leaving a shower of fallen blossoms behind. Heaven really is awful. At long last, I won a super jackpot and got transported to ancient times, only to watch other people enjoy good food, drink, sleep, fun, easy lives, good looks, and cuteness as soon as they arrive. Meanwhile, I’m still stuck in this perfectly ordinary, unremarkable body, which looks like that of a seventy- or eighty-year-old spinster by ancient standards, though I’m already sick of it in modern times. All I can do is laugh and play around with these little boys and girls, pretending to be silly and clueless. Worse still, that blasted Heaven dares threaten me with thunder and lightning, leaving me able to do nothing but mutter, “This isn’t fair.”
