The highway is closed, on fire, and the wind is blowing like the world is coming to an end. I guess I could go to sleep. It’s been a while since I’ve slept. Maybe even dream. Of calm oceans and extinct volcanoes and quiet helicopters. Of a white house on a green cliff in Ireland. Of a black cat called Marley purring on my lap. But I won’t dream. I won’t sleep. The world is on fire. The wind is blowing. And I want to watch the end.