The beginning of the story happens as we all do: finding the synchronicity in the Earth and the rhythm of the tides with the flicker of a heartbeat detected by a sonogram. To what end do we traverse the tangible realm to fulfill the destiny of our spirit’s prose? As a boy, the character encounters strange apparitions of celestial forms. Angels? Aliens? He sets on a path to become an advocate of peace in a world wrought with greed gluttonously destroying a helpless planet. Feeling alone, yet determined in his convictions to stand up to the establishments perpetrating the perpetual crimes against humanity and the depletion of resources. Escalating hostility bred by misguided beliefs eventually leads to the implosion of the infrastructure; thin-framed houses built with the straw that broke the laborers’ backs while the suits sip martinis, toasting the high life as they kiss the world goodbye. Desperate for a solution - the avoidance of an execution - the character recalls the memory of the apparitions, finding the strength to lead a faction of survivors to a new planet to start anew. Millions of years of history and culture evaporate, with only the fragments of dependable memories serving to fuel the future. Visions of Utopia are dashed as it is realized that, with just the right amount of human complexion, we can easily continue to destroy whatever we touch. Our meddlesome nature breaking the code of the Universe with shattered, perverse intentional defects inherited through indoctrination, generation after generation. Bad habits living on the grid of programmed reality feeding into the tragedy of our effective malady - of being civilized. The character reaches the end of his life, returning to the peace of weightless non-existence. Do we remember our life when we die? Do we have a chance to make things right? If humans have destroyed so much in this reality, where do we go - what do we become - to succeed? To atone? To balance the existence? A positive action can impact the lives of many. How long do our spirits resonate when the curtain calls? It’s open-ended.