Beacon 23

by Hugh Howey

When we’re young, every imaginary battle ends with heroics. Finales come with a bang. Then you get older, and you see that life ends in wrinkles and whimpers.

And I can’t stop myself from thinking that maybe she was sent here to tune more than that other beacon. That’s paranoia, though.

I call this the Relativistic Weekend Effect. We live in the present, but our happiness relies heavily on the future. Our mood is as much expectation as experience.

Yep! Nailed it…