The Tides of Change and Destruction

The sun hides behind the safety of the clouds. The clouds are always moving, always changing, and never in the same place. Swirling, gliding, drifting, crumbling. Silent giants that watch us live our lives without a word. They grace us with light, or they curse us with rain. When they choose to act out on days like today, we fall helpless to the wispy giants.

The air is thick, muggy, and clings to the skin. A quiet hum from nearby crickets consumes the silence. Their song deafens the sounds of cars driving by. A consistent scream that they have harmonized. The scream filled with longing and desperation. They wish to find a connection, yet they know that time is running out. The pitch leaves goosebumps on my skin.

No birds, no squirrels, nothing but insects singing their song. The blind ants march steadfastly, one after the other, moving to the next target. An ant can’t see that their efforts are for nothing. They are born into this world ready to aimlessly support someone they barely know. They fight, eat, work, and breed. Then someday they will eventually die.

As the morning crawls onwards, I started to space out and was awakened by the momentary warmth of the sun peeking through. Its warm light faded as fast as it arrived, only to stay in shadows once more.

I look down to nothing but ashes. A reactionary sigh escapes my nostrils. Time to go inside. From the creaking of my knees to the soreness in my back, I forced myself up and inside, where the air was cool and dry. The sound of the clothes spinning around and around rhythmically tapped on my eardrums.

It's time for my day to start.