-^-for posterity-^-

there we were. the coffee shop was like all others but something was wrong. the air was light but the sun beat down outside. there was something horrible about the way the sun was shining, like it was trying to do us all irrevocable damage.

the whole afternoon i was working in the library. the library is surrounded by a fairly placid piece of land which is spotted with small growths of weed-like grass. on the other side of the ground circling the library there was a large funeral party. at the party they were playing music and the music carried on all afternoon.

the music sounded like a soul leaving the body. there were drums banging slowly and rhythmically. there were cymbals and gongs that were played intermittently. most eerily, there was some sort of wind instrument that sounded like tears. it did not sound right.

there we were in the coffee shop talking about sparrows. my friend had seen some sparrows dead on the road the other day and we talked about them for a bit. we talked about dead sparrows and dead chickens and other things that were dying around us. the music played in the background, crying.

in that moment, i felt how horribly tentative our grip on life is. everything felt like a dream, a tragically short one filled with unhappiness and sorrow.

the music continued to play, it was a chinese funeral, and we continued to sip our coffee and feel the sounds creep into us and foreshadow our future here on this small, wet rock floating through its dark vacuum.