I sip my coffee. I look at the mountain, which is still doing its tricks, as you look at a still-beautiful face belonging to a person who was once your lover in another country years ago: with fond nostalgia, and recognition, but no real feelings save a secret astonishment that you are now strangers. Thanks. For the memories. It is ironic that the one thing that all religions recognize as separating us from our creator–our very self-consciousness–is also the one thing that divides us from our fellow creatures. It was a bitter birthday present from evolution, cutting us off at both ends.
![I sip my coffee. I look at the mountain, which is still I sip my coffee. I look at the mountain, which is still Image](https://www.idlehearts.com/images/i-sip-my-coffee-i-look-at-the-mountain-which-is-still.jpg?x85372)