Davo

by N.R. Walker

“Some things thrive out here.” He watched the sunset, the brilliant display of colour across the sky. “They adapt and find a way.”

“If anything makes you feel good about yourself, then it’s not silly,” I murmured.

“And now here we are, three billion years later, and I’m lucky enough to exist at the same time as you.”

This is the second sunset he’d shown me. I needed the reminder to stop for a second and appreciate the things we so easily overlooked.

We are but a speck of dust in the time of this place.’ That’s what you said. Those words hit me so hard, Davo. And the stars at night . . . my god. We are tiny, insignificant in the scheme of the universe and infinite time.” I wasn’t making any sense. “So if none of it matters, if in the end we’re just names in some forgotten history book god knows when from now, then I want to make my time count.

“You just made me the happiest guy. I’m just gonna need a minute.” Then he laughed.

You see the wonder in the world, and I need someone to remind me of that.