Oscar knew in a flash of cosmic visual match-making that the symbol for his mother would be a giraffe.
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If there is a way to make an omelette without breaking eggs, Oscar thought, his mother would have some helpful hints and some insight.
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What happens in space when a black hole gets close to another black hole?
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How come nobody recognizes Superman when he’s out of his outfit?
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Could there possibly be anything faster than the speed of light?
Well, after spending some quality time sitting alone in the bathroom – but not so much time that suspicion would be aroused – Oscar had thought of four things: the first, and most obvious to Oscar, was the speed of dark; second, the developmental speed of an idea along its wildly convoluted path from its conception to its conclusion somewhere right before “Aha!” or “Oh!”; third, the escape velocity of an angel’s fart; and, finally, how quickly her kiss simultaneously evaporated from and burned Oscar’s lips leaving a swollen, glowing, rainbow tattoo of warm sweet affection, infinite memory and unmeasurable feeling.
After flushing, Oscar got in bed.
hey, that tickles 