They told me it was the answer. That no matter what it would, “find a way.” Find a way? Heh. To disappear, maybe. Down to nothing but a speck of a crumb. “Find a way,” is something they say when they know it’s too late. All I can do now is watch it unravel, one thread at a time. But what’s time without worth? Perhaps it’s the sneakiest evil. Too much of it providing too little. Yet here I stand, holding onto nothing more than one lonely thread. It’s all I can do with the time we have left.