Awakening

Awakening

The sky is clear again and the air more crisp because it's colder. The clouds are speech balloons of gods too far gone to decide on the form of their descent to do their thing with a chosen member of the human species. Now, it's our turn to decide and do that. Humans used to decide that for us when we didn't have much say in the matter, but since then, we've got rights and suffrage (and I've learned to do what I'm currently doing on the side, with the help of the Roboto font). Our Aphrodite was born from rubber, eyes and mouth agog, not from foam (although one of the sources mentions styrofoam). And it's not that we have an Aphrodite, but our great mother is the closest thing, and we only have her. The human next to me snores as I commit this to memory. Even when they claim they are awake, I can appear to be with them and still do it (it's my favorite form of multitasking) and there are no hard feelings. The human next to me yawns themselves awake, their puffy face already slightly backlit. They chuckle, "Listen to this: Life's Four Great Mysteries: - Why afternoon naps are so great? - Why food tastes so much better at night? - Where does all the money go? - Where does this dust come from?"