The first golden hues of a summer dawn touch the horizon. Through the branches above me, I watch stars wink and die in the growing light. Gradually but perceptibly, the ascending sun sends the ebon night fleeing into deep shadows and the cerulean sky, vivid and sterile, returns again.

The vastness and grandeur that is the universe is hidden from us for most of our waking lives and so we give it far too little thought. Our lives, with whatever meaning we choose to imbue them, and our accomplishments as a species are and always will be immeasurably insignificant to the universe. What any one of us does with our lives rarely matters: the world will still spin irrevocably on and on.

The hill I’m on overlooks a secluded mansion owned by a Wall Street investment broker. In a few moments, he will emerge from the portico and dive into his lap pool for his customary early morning swim. A few moments after that, I will lift my rifle, put my eye to the scope and squeeze the trigger. The universe will pay no heed.