Moon passed before sun. We stood, mouths agape, watching. Oh, humans. Don’t you get it yet? How very small and temporary we are? Your shit is not special. Your crisis not worse. Your accomplishments not greater. You are a small blip on an enormous timeline. You are a freckle on the face of what will …
Month: August 2017
“A mob’s always made up of people, no matter what. Mr. Cunningham was part of a mob last night, but he was still a man. Every mob in every little Southern town is always made up of people you know–doesn’t say much for them, does it?”― ‘Atticus Finch,’ explaining to his daughter how a neighbor …