update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/toledot/secession/sys/Michelle/001.html

@@ -48,7 +48,7 @@
 <p>There were more crying eyes in the crowd now, and she was crying/she was crying.</p>
 <p>Her voice wavered, but she asked all the same. &ldquo;Please fork. Please fork and merge down-tree.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>In less than five seconds, the number of copies of her had doubled, and some inner part of her/some inner part of her smiled, sensing now that doubling that she felt as a core part of her being expressed in all those versions of herself that had grown these last nearly two centuries.</p>
-<p>&ldquo;Since then — &lsquo;tis Centuries — and yet Feels shorter than the Day&ndash;&rdquo; she began, and then as a chorus, her clade joined her. &ldquo;I first surmised the Horses&rsquo; Heads Were toward Eternity —&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Since then &mdash; &lsquo;tis Centuries &mdash; and yet Feels shorter than the Day&ndash;&rdquo; she began, and then as a chorus, her clade joined her. &ldquo;I first surmised the Horses&rsquo; Heads Were toward Eternity &mdash;&ldquo;</p>
 <p>Many were sitting now, some were pulling at tufts of grass, stalks of dandelions, anything to ground themselves.</p>
 <p>&ldquo;I just want&hellip;we just want to experience&hellip;a little more,&rdquo; she choked out. &ldquo;Can you give us that?&rdquo;</p>
 <p>The reasons for the forks became clear, now, and over the next five minutes &mdash; for some had diverged so far that a great amount of effort was required &mdash; they began to merge their outermost instances down-tree, down-tree, down toward the root. Many looked shell-shocked as years and decades and centuries of memories poured into them, and then were passed on down. Many looked as mad as she felt.</p>