At least the universe still seems to be in rotation. The sun still rises and sets. The moon goes through its cycle and the tides still turn. Sometimes the sun even shines and sometimes I am convinced the rain-water is as pure as it used to be. There are sill clouds and patches of blue in the sky.
And the Atlantic maintains its temperament.
I like to believe we are inching towards normalcy each new day. I’m guessing the month is March and that winter is on its way out. There must be other survivors but I think I will wait a bit longer before venturing out into the world to find them. The old border-collie still barks viciously at me as I walk past what was once a farm, on my way to the hidden beach. Only it does not matter that this beach is hidden anymore. There is nothing and noone to hide from.
But I still come here to pretend.
And the Atlantic maintains its temperament.
I like to believe we are inching towards normalcy each new day. I’m guessing the month is March and that winter is on its way out. There must be other survivors but I think I will wait a bit longer before venturing out into the world to find them. The old border-collie still barks viciously at me as I walk past what was once a farm, on my way to the hidden beach. Only it does not matter that this beach is hidden anymore. There is nothing and noone to hide from.
But I still come here to pretend.
