Alternative Muzack

When a storyline reaches its peak, when the characters finally go their own ways, my thoughts deflate like helium balloons. The story's main theme swims through my thoughts, a Devils Hole pupfish (Cyprinodon diabolis) looking for its last mate, programmed to procreate, slowly running out of energy, giving up its elements to bacteria which'll turn up in something else worth writing into another tale of eat and be eaten. Meanwhile, I fast. I meditate. I gather material to start the next cook fire, my cave shelter from the rain but little comfort, shared as it is with bats, squirrels, raccoons, opossums, rats, hawks, doves, chipmunks, snails, spiders, crickets, ants, mites, fungus, bacteria, and dust, always dust. And more dust. The stuff of life. You. Me. Us. Youmeus dust. Let the momentary silence reign. I'll be back again. Alone but not lonely. Maybe next time I'll remember to turn the microscope around and get a better view - tired of seeing my magnified eyeball looking back at me!