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I'm fairly certain I was a ripe brie in 1723. I may have been a mote of dust floating in a sun beam while Lucretius was writing long long ago. I was never a photon or a funeral dirge. There was a rumor I was a guillotine blade during the French Revolution, but that one is wrong. I was a flake of soot in Madame Du Farge's knitting.
I'm fairly certain I was a ripe brie in 1723. I may have been a mote of dust floating in a sun beam while Lucretius was writing long long ago. I was never a photon or a funeral dirge. There was a rumor I was a guillotine blade during the French Revolution, but that one is wrong. I was a flake of soot in Madame Du Farge's knitting.
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