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I know we’ve barely even met, and I hope you’ll forgive me for saying this. Because I want to say… it’s terrifying—to live. That we’re expected to imagine how we are to go on living, when we know what we know. About the world. About the way we’re going, about how little control we really have.
Weather changes are converging on the equator. Fish are boiling, beaches are drowning, seashells are breaking, and palm trees are coming down. Meanwhile a mother searches for a lost son, humans look for otters, and a Merlion keeps track of change. There is a timeline, or a deadline, depending on how you want to look at it. A line could be crossed… or have we already crossed it?