Soul City

As long as I can remember, I've been able to read the minds of men. Mostly men, although some women also yield themselves to me just as readily as they do. When I was in my mother's womb, I could sometimes hear her singing to me. She'd rhyme my name with big words like soliloquy and annuity and anonymity. But my name was no accident. My mama knew I could hear her, which is why she used to tell me how strong and beautiful I was. I was her Ubiquity. My daddy was one of the only men whose mind seemed hazy, or perhaps even too complex, for me to read clearly. The only other man to stump me is that wicked good-for-nothing shyster the Reparations Man. But that's a story for another time. This now, this here, this is my time.

My mama knew I had a...
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