The way I figure it, everyone gets a miracle. Like, I will probably never be struck by lightning, or win a Nobel Prize, or become the dictator of a small nation in the Pacific Islands, or contract terminal ear cancer, or spontaneously combust. But if you consider all unlikely things together, at least one of them will probably happen to each of us.
On Saturday, Sam and I went to a made-up town.
This town was located about ten minutes north of Roscoe, NY, and had been demarcated by earlier Nerdfighter visitors.