Starry eyed
People often ask me what my birth sign is. Coyly I simper, 'Virgo,' the virgin, and then, more belligerently, point out that I was born six weeks premature by Caesarean section. Literary readers will remember that this gives me a special advantage if ever I should stumble across Macbeth on a dark night. Skeptical readers will note that it should raise some serious questions about astrology, such as whether an obstetrician can cheat the cycle of the heavens by arranging a birth for an auspicious
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