Surbia

The day was slowly falling into night. The lights on the street were starting to come to life and the kids on the street were protesting their mother’s calls. Eventually parental rule triumphed and the street became quiet. There was nothing to think about on those lonely summer nights, except perhaps the existence of this absurdity called life. But there was no time to think anyway, fathers came home, meals were cooked, and children put to bed. TV’s were turned on, drama played from sea to sea, across the entire country. What good was it to think at all, when really, life required very little of it?