Sometime, in the Devonian, on the floors of shallow, green seas, the fish looked like stones. They live their lives encased in tight-fitting armor. Bodies locked in cuirass, plackart, and pauldron. Arms: gauntlets. Just a keyhole in the helmet for peeking eyes. Life was lived hidden in an envelope of bone; and the world was only touched through chinks in the walls built against one’s own flesh.
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