I’ve been reading a lot of dystopian novels lately for some strange reason (also popping beta blockers and reading up on the immigration policies of any country that seems like it might be marginally more sane than my own, though let me tell you those get rarer by the day). What’s interesting about dystopian novels is that, though they propose a dozen different ways for the world to end, some quite baroque and imaginative, they are not really about how everyone dies. They’re about how people manage to live. They’re exploratory proposals for a hypothetical future where at least some of us come out on the other side of the disaster.
comparing a lily with a double helix
rising seas time packed in water
as cold as you can get a burning bush