Wind

We sat side by side on the rock.  I leaned my head on my hand and watched the tendrils of smoke from his cigarette circle above us.  A gust of wind raced past us, clearing the smoke away.  The wind blew the creaking branches, tracing arcs through the air with their new buds.  Patterns of sunlight opened and closed on the ground.  Last years fallen leaves lifted from the carpet at our feet to twirl in a vain hope at resurrection...then dropped back to the cycle of the ground.

"Theres no way that all of this means anything."  He gestured with a broad sweep of his arm to include everything around us.

I looked at him incredulously.  "I disagree.  Theres no way it can't mean anything."

"What makes you say such stupid shit?"

I smiled and looked away.  I'll make him wait for an answer to that question.