#71

Trillions of people. Ants really. All shuttling from here to there. All with their own tiny universe living tenderly inside a cage of bone. All seeing from eyes perched atop a different mountain. Taking in information and reaching conclusions, so nuanced with the colors of everything else their own eyes have see, their own ears have drank, their own skin has bristled at, and taking actions that only they could take. On this lone rock, this mossy, wet rock careening through the infinite darkness which must end somewhere. Not one of them living long enough to see enough turns around the sun to truly make sense of anything. So they do the best they can. They listen to what they are told and have to decide for themselves. Yes. Or No. And most come up with a third option.