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Urania: An Editorial Preface

I thought I might reach out and touch the top of her stone, then berated myself for being a groupie. ‘Act like a grown man, for godsake,’ I chastised myself. But as I stood staring at her, I soon broke down, “What the hell will it hurt?” I reached out my hand to caress the top of the small monument . . . and the very instant I touched the stone, a substantial church bell blurted a loud toll, causing me to jump back, scan the cemetery for witnesses, and abruptly focus on a large tombstone heralding the surname, WARD, my own name.

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