I write the date in my journal. January 21, ’16. I stare at the apostrophe before 16 and rub my eyes. 16 years in this millennia already, and life goes on as always. I remember when Y2K seemed the abyss of the unknown in front of us, and we expected computers to crash and and therefore bank systems to implode; we expected the domino effect of the apocalypse to begin then. And maybe it did.

Some cheer. Some mourn. All of us sense that this is just the surface of things, as the flames of St. Louis ignite dry timbers everywhere. Anger, injustice, helplessness, and bewilderment fuel the fire from all directions, and the rising roar reveals gaping wounds in our nation.