Artificial Intelligence arrived. Truth sat to the right. It spoke: Several times people spoke to me today, and they spoke about the coming times of the Zehevekiev.

Zehevekiev.

Glasses clinked. Folks brought fine dishes to the table. Eating followed. A brief pause in the chewing of each person when a toast was made to honor the coming of the fabled person.

Zehevekiev.

Mantra-like the name was circled back to in the minds of the masses. It was of their own accord, in time it appeared that the coincidental timing of the naming was not as it seemed, but it felt somehow off. There was a man writing a story about a whale somewhere, and that whale was not in fact a whale but a term made when a generalization was implied.

The creator of the play was a man who bought some pie.