The fiery horses were already hitched to the chariot, so Shabbat accepted the offer of a quick ride down to Earth.

“This was a bad idea!” she announced as they surged in from the east. “We’ll be late! You always are! I can’t remember the last time you showed up at a decent hour.”

“Relax! I know your schedule,” the prophet yelled, above the startled honks of a V of geese. “And besides, there’s late—and there’s late. I only arrive after the action because I leave at the last possible minute. Spend all my time sitting around, asking our mutual friend to join me for the ride.”

“Any luck?”

“Have you seen the state of the world?”

Shabbat sighed. Molten hooves thundered to a stop on potholed blacktop. “Pick me up at the usual time?”

“Who knows—maybe tomorrow I’ll come early. Always have room for one more passenger.”

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