Praying? Well, yes — metaphorically
speaking. As you doubtless know if you’re reading this memoir, there is One
True Religion; but I wouldn’t want you to get the idea that I was a follower of
N’Yar lath-Hotep, or The Sleeper, or any of their nightmarish ilk. My prayers
are secular, humanist, and probably futile. It’s one of my character flaws; I
was a lot happier when I was an
atheist.
