Lost among the cracks, the detritus of a once-great civilization.
Walking along the broken sidewalk, I glance at the formerly magnificent and verdant Bradford Pear trees, now just burnt husks as placeholders of hope for future life.
I am reminded of the human race when seeing the broken stumps. Is there still life somewhere deep inside what is left? Is there any hope for recovery?
I may never know the answers to these questions, but I must not dwell on the hopelessness of the situation lest I fall back into the destructive patterns of my first six months alone.