Thomas Kinkade Graceland

turned me on my back!No, he with a mind as incisive as a meringue. And if Brutha found out that . . .Or if Brutha died . . ."How are you feeling?" said Om.turned a tortoise on its back.Yes. Me.No. You're a god.Yes, but a persistently tortoise-shaped one.If he had known you were a god . . .But Om remembered Vorbis's absorbed expression, in a pair of grey eyes in front
ambition in his big flabby body. And this is what you've got to work with . . .
The god part said: Vorbis would have been better. Be rational. A mind like that could do anything!
He of a mind as impenetrable as a steel ball. He'd never seen a mind shaped like that on anything walking upright. There was someone who probably would turn a god on his back, just to see what would happen. Someone who'd overturn the universe, without thought of consequence, for the sake of the knowledge of what happened when the universe was flat on its back . . .But what he had to work with was Brutha, ."
"Snuggle down under the sails a bit more," said Om. "You don't want to catch a chill."
There's got to be someone else, he thought. It can't be just him who . . . the rest of the thought was so terrible he tried to block it from his mind, but he couldn't .
. . . it can't be just him who believes in me.
Really in me. Not in a pair of golden horns. Not in a