Balsa Flyer


Is the end really upon us, or is it just a metaphor? When the crumbs are
gone and we face each other in the forest, who will be the first to laugh at
the ridiculousness of it? Who will be the last? Will the universe ask
questions once the people are gone? Maybe then it can just get back to
business, done with our annoying tug at the sleeve. What if the end comes,
and it’s nothing like an ending? What if the apocalypse is just the death of
questions? Instead: a slow, steady parade of responses, a thing so tightly
wound that it jumps and twirls as it unwinds, a contraption made of balsa
wood, rubber bands, and a red plastic propeller which will survive
everything else and never be found because all finding has ended.