On accident, he dropped the folder containing his life's work off the pier. The ocean water exorcised ink from scattered pages, washing away thousands of hours of effort.
The next morning, he wrote unencumbered — as if it was his first time, once again.
The Climb of Life is treacherous.
There is no rope, no harness, nothing.
When you fall, you die.
We all fall eventually.
Some take longer.
Some get higher.
Nobody’s reached the top.
Yet.
He weaponized his hurt, melding his dysfunction in upon itself until he became completely invulnerable to harm.
His superhero career went well, until he met his arch-nemesis: a cute girl, blessed with endless patience.
A hummingbird experiences the spring as thousands of individual experiences - flowers blooming, snow melting, bears crawling out of dens and shaking off the last vestiges of hibernation. It'll only see a few in its lifetime, so each is novel.
A turtle experiences the spring as one long, flowing event. Spring will come again, and again, and again. And again. It greets the budding of new leaves as one might greet an old friend.
A second is a second. But a season can be many things.