Given enough time, the smoke will clear. Given enough time, bridges burned might be built again. Given enough time the mighty will be ground to dust, empires will be consumed by weeds, and the very bones sunken into the hungry earth will glisten among the green fields and bright flowers. Time is insatiable. It will devour us all, and that fact alone gives me comfort. The world will outlast all our crimes and triumphs. The world will out endure each and every word.
It was a bright enough day, the early blossoms filled tree and shrub. Bees glittered along their ennobled routes, their fairy wings sparkling and a-whirr. Lots overgrown in dense and gaudy greens, feeding flocks and swarms. School was out, and children wandered the streets in slow tumult. I timed myself to the schedule of the odd dog and the written word. I idled, keeping pace with the deep lull of a sunny afternoon.
I am allied with the later days. I am on the side of bee and bramble, a partisan of the skyscraper and urban clutter. I am kin of the scavengers and the prey, blood of the poor and the disenfranchised. We are bound to our places and our stars, to our ancestors and our enemies. Humans are an aberrant breed, bright enough to work against their own interests, dull enough to be readily captured by spells and ghosts. It is not unlikely that we will drive ourselves into early extinction, bringing myriad species with us into the void. But the planet will abide, and life will continue. That is my sunny day.