Well, shit. Our president’s dropping bombs, the White House Press Secretary won’t stop talking about Hitler, J. Geils is dead, and apparently The Fate of the Furious isn’t that good. Not even the reemergence of the Tamagotchi can save us now. We rage. We continue to rage. We try to continue to rage. We collapse, tethered to the planet as it rotates into oblivion.
We are Sienna.
She hasn’t given up. No, you can see her hand pushing her along. But fate is in control now. ‘Round and ‘round she goes, where she stops…well, she’ll stop on a patch of blue or yellow interlocking foam. Us, though?
Hey, look! A cat playing baseball!