unexplained

There was never any point and that, my old man used to say, was exactly the point. To say there was a something was to question the human concept of existence with no more evidence than a fairytale in a children’s book.

However, the old man was always one to question, question and question. Somewhere, just somewhere along the line he got the attention of things he should probably have left alone.

The only evidence of the night is a photograph of a blurred object over the night sky of New York. And the old man? Not a single trace.