“Sleep would not come so easily to me. I tried to settle my nerves. I slipped out and made myself a cup of chamomile, only I couldn’t tell if I had used the wrong tin, or if now that I was the Seer, chamomile really did taste like riding a hot air balloon in the mist on a nondescript Saturday afternoon.”

“Sleep would not come so easily to me. I tried to settle my nerves. I slipped out and made myself a cup of chamomile, only I couldn’t tell if I had used the wrong tin, or if now that I was the Seer, chamomile really did taste like riding a hot air balloon in the mist on a nondescript Saturday afternoon.”

— William Ritter