"You, there! Fifth row, two from the aisle. What's the difference between generosity and kindness?"
Wait, is that me? Shit. I was on my phone.
"Uh..." I mumbled, mind racing.
"The sun."
"The sun?"
"In the desert, the sun is generous, but it is not kind."
"Why do monks brew beer?"
"It's what they feel called to do."
"But isn't drinking a vice?"
"For Europeans, it's a virtue."
After the fall, the forest, once demure, revitalized. The cacophony of industrial machinery was replaced by riotous birdsong, chittering mammals, and the whistling of a once-stilled wind. Some lamented humanity being sent back to the Stone Age.
Some didn’t.
A gentle breeze disturbed the early morning calm of the lake, sending ripples to gently lap the shoreline. I shivered.
I pulled out a bag of dust and scattered it off the dock. While I could never tell if she was happy, this seemed close enough.