Most of us only make time for sunsets on vacations, as if that calming moment can only occur when we're in an exotic place, free from everyday obligations.
So many nameless dots in the data that somebody, somewhere, reads in a report. So many nameless dots in the data each marking the collapse of someone's world.
I sit with my souvenirs sprawled across the floor. Not the postcards and magnets, bought from some store. But the ones I collected from mountains and sea shores.
