‘I am a piece of fallen skin’
‘I am a broken hair from a spider’s leg’
‘I am from dirt the cat tramped in’
We three wait
In a corner close to the walls
Behind and beside the washing machine
We see the day come and go
And we wait
Ants wander by often, lizards, sometimes, too
The cat peers under the machine
About once a week
And we wait
One day the machine is gone
And all traces of worldly humans
Soon the plaster and brick will crumble
And we wait
We see the weeds encroaching
Pushing through every crack
The wind will never find us here
And the heat and cold bother us not
And we wait
Now there is only darkness
Every living thing has disappeared
We float away in space
Waiting for a reformation
The most important skill of a species intelligent enough to understand both their insignificance and their mortality is the capability for distraction.
Tim Urban