Inevitably my thoughts return to that unspoken colossus we constructed so long ago. How dare I remember?
Before a tempest hits the shore with all its means of destruction, a serene calm presides over the sky and permeates through the air. The storm is meditating on our destruction. Our tempest arrives not with cannons and explosions but with a ring of the doorbell. It arrives every day and it doesn’t destroy us. It only prolongs our anxiety. It toys with us maliciously.