It is 4am and I am wide awake. The world is on fire, and our collective thimbles full of water can do nothing to stop it. It’s not the flames that bother you; it’s the futility. Like Sisyphus, you keep reaching that thimble into the ocean, but instead of a boulder, you face men and women (mostly men) gleefully spraying accelerant from a fire hose. When the flames are close enough to have seared your eyebrows, a bit of the accelerant hits your finger, and you know it’s over. You run into the fire with all you have, hoping to reach one of the smiling ones before the flames win.
This is Andrew VU ‘04’s Sense of Dread
