And here I am, lost within the gap meant to hold the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle, the picture left incomplete. The eyes automatically drawn to this glaring flaw in an otherwise gorgeous image. Like everything, cracks in the veneer expose a fragile and decayed substrate, flimsy enough to collapse at any moment, the whole picturesque grandeur transformed in the blink of an eye to indecipherable ruins. Perhaps there is a faint suggestion of the prior beauty, but more than likely not a trace remains to hint at what once was and should have been, the shape that was intended. How can everything be so brittle? All those lovely elements of life so dependent upon the termite riddled fabrications underpinning the faulty surface, just biding its time before imminent collapse ensues. It seems altogether too pointless, striving so hard to keep from slipping between the cracks. It can’t be any safer up above than here below, with the discarded fragments shaken free to plummet down upon my mercifully unsheltered head, waiting for that chance impact to finally arrive. I slip furtively from pillar to pillar, not actively inviting the disaster that I openly accept and hope to embrace. I witness the crumbling decay as the sky is falling. Scavenging through debris, eyes alert to any potentially useful discoveries amongst the overwhelming heaps of filth and wreckage. To sift is the dream of many, those lacking purpose grind themselves away at the rough edges of immovable objects, devoured between stationary gears, the forward momentum solely a product of a will bent towards the prize place upon the dinner table. Choice meal for a choice selection of the most tasteful and elegant of consumers. Nothing is mass-produced down here, all is hand crafted with loving care by the unloved and forgotten. Unnoticed and blissfully unaware of the ridiculous station they hold in life. All is a junkyard in progress, steadily in process of accumulation of degradation.