If you were given a chance to sleep and wake up 500 million years into the future, would you do it? Would you wish to wake up to a world where humanity, and perhaps the whole of the planet, is entirely annihilated? Where the memory of a former life is so distant and out of reach that it almost feels like you are waking up to an entirely different lifetime? Where the faces and the places surrounding you are no longer tinged with an acute sense of warmth and familiarity? Would you be glad to know that you are alone now, no longer surrounded by the people you once knew, no longer in the presence of every living being you once associated with your own dear life, the memories of them woven in the lonely background of your own, finally becoming one and intertwined.
Certain places in the city never catch my attention and make an impact—like the crowded stretch of a boulevard or the blinking signal of traffic lights. I consider them ordinary, the way most people do, and recognize them as merely a part of the overall rhythm of the life force that drives and moves the city.
I know myself too well and I know for certain that when someone asks me to go out of town, I would be quick to run for the nearest exit before I could even say no. Continue reading “Under Northern Skies”