I stay on the sunny side of the walk to the subway for as long as possible, glorying in the soft blue sky and the cool air. Of course, my brain won’t let me stay in this blissful state for too long, so I inevitably start thinking about the fact that it’s going to be warmer earlier every year until the world is totally uninhabitable.
But we just sort of live like this, creeping toward destruction without knowing how to stop it.
That being said, the cherry trees have already blossomed, and the gingko trees, cryptic and angular like certain melodies from Japan, have already begun to bud, and I love them enough to put aside my gloomy thoughts.
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