I noticed it was beginning to get dark. And for a couple seconds, it was scary—like that meant the world was breaking, or expired, or bruised, or something worse. It was really scary for a couple seconds but then I calmed down.
Up above, the moonlit clouds looked rippled, like the ribcage of some giant thing digesting me. And I wondered if the direction I was going went down into the digestive system or up out of it.
Wondered what difference it made. There was a bug hovering over a small pool of ice cream on the sidewalk. Like a firefly, but it wasn’t a firefly. And I could’ve stepped on it and killed it.
But I didn’t. Be thankful, little bug. For in my world, you are just a little bug.