Have you ever looked through your window and seen someone in the house next to you going about their lives? Then you realize that they have a life? I mean duh, but they're life is just like yours and not like yours. They have problems, and worries and joys. They know people who know people who know more people. They're conscious. I often wonder how the world can hold it all. Seven billion concious minds and bodies all with a life as complicated as yours or more. Sonder. Look that up if you must.
I am Stardust. I am part of everything that has been and will be. One second to make me one second to die and one second of life. Take that however you want. It is choice unlike so many other things. Right now someone is dying. There she goes. In the time it took you to read that sentence, someone's life has been snuffed out. And their family will mourn forever. One second, then sorrow for life.
Now you realize this is all a thought of the fly in the corner. The fly you named but forgot about. The fly you would kill without thinking. The fly. The anonymous fly.
YOU ARE READING
Death is an Art
SpiritualI don't really understand what I have written and will write. It is abstract and definitely does not follow the story format. I just want to write scenes that create an image in your mind, like my favorite kinds of books. A kind of book to sit in a...
