Tell me again the story of selflessness, dear Uncle Theory. (Uncle Theory is boiling his water, mumbling about the end of history–he’s an ivory tower academic, fears the end of history more than the loss of trees…)
The old boy likes to talk about himself. If you mention an obscure locale he will tell you he was there once. He’ll tell you it was glorious.
Meanwhile selflessness gets archived. It gets put in a little box on a shelf next to seldom.
Uncle Theory buys up all the old drive in photo processing booths. He’s making them into little museums devoted to abandoned places.
A reflection appears on the water, then it is gone.