A warm day, spring, a tree nearby casts large spots of shadow.
I sit on a bench and carefully cut an apple.
A drop of its juice is running down my fingers.
The aroma intensifies when I unfold the halves.
A dissonance creeps between harmonious scents of a meadow and the apple.
A plank beneath me creaks warningly.
The rising entropy brings the inevitable catastrophe closer.
Everything around is imperceptibly falling into chaos.
It is crumbling, heading towards collapse with every passing moment.
How to fall asleep every day knowing this?