It's sunrise and a vet stands at the edge of a parking lot, at the top of a short flight of stairs leading down to the beach below. Off in the distance a few hundred meters away, a dog jogs off down the empty beach. The vet, arms hanging by his side and feeling dejected, simply says "Balls..." and turns away.
Knowing how easily even the smallest things torture me, I deliberately avoid contact with them. A cloud passing in front of the sun is enough to make me suffer. How then should I not suffer in the darkness of the endlessly overcast sky of my own life? With Balls running down that sandy beach and humping any hope for my irreverent and everlasting search for peace? My everlasting search for isolation?
