helina

The delivery guy at the left turn, the call to my mom at the intersection, the overtaking of the bus, the old drink store, the fields to my left and right, the raindrops on my windshield blending in with the record crackles, the apples, the sunflowers, the blocked path, the brick building of the fire station, their clock reading 18:23, more fields, the right turn to the tennis plot and gym, the boy standing on the rock, then by the road in my rearview, his gaze following me, the plastic ball next to a parked cars tire, the three roundabouts, the sky clearing and illuminated clouds, the overtaking of the white car that didn’t blink, the wait for the garage gate, the slow park, the child’s cry echoing through the garage, the elevator smelling like the hotel in Addis…

How exactly does one justify their existence?

Knowing that everything is finite, is both so comforting and terrifying.