Foe

by Iain Reid

That’s what time does. It ushers a return to equilibrium. Unease becomes ease. A shock, no matter how potent, always wears off with time.

The privilege of being human is that our brains are big enough to decide the fate of other creatures.

I realized our common seam, each of us, is our own inherent vulgarity.

Beauty isn’t fleeting. Beauty is eternal. But… I’m not. I’m fleeting. That’s more the point.

I’m a flawed, disgusting person like everyone else. Broken and imperfect. Of course I am. How could I ever think I was any different?

And think about the city and everything there, the stores and apartments and vehicles. Think about all the screens people have. For almost everything, any object you can think of, there are too many. There’s only one you, and it’s miraculous.