It had to begin with dinosaurs. Maybe because they once existed and never stopped existing (even as cardboard prints) while gods become scripts and then myths. Maybe because they just mattered enough to leave footprints (or didn’t care enough to wipe away their marks). At least that’s how it works in an uncomplicated world. Then, it will be September. And too soon the crayola days melt into summer into another fall. This time, the world started as dust and echoes. A star is born, a galaxy is on the run, running away from another possibility. On paper, they are decimal points and Newtons and gel pen scribbles and god, I hope I make it to some college. There are no photographs of the Earth’s 500 million year lonely walk through the void but it’ll be shortened to 23 million if we remember to personify the moon. It only takes two decades of walking through earth, though it’ll be called “journey to the center of the world” taken too literally, renamed human existential crisis, for us to accept our superficiality. We’re here to disappear, but before that we’ll graduate, fall in love, have children and convince them that dinosaurs did exist (among other things), and consider that maybe the world exists outside of stardust, and maybe we’ll last longer than our ashes. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust”, we’ll visit more museums of plastic dinosaur fossils before becoming one. Maybe some of us will become myths and some of us will become footsteps and maybe the Big Bang was just God stomping his foot once. But that’s too complicated and outside of what I know. Because for all I know, all of us could just be deformed, smaller versions of dinosaurs trying to leave our own footprint on planet earth.