Plastic is King

 Today, the wind surprised everyone with its abrupt anger. The sun has been beating our backs without any mercy since February, and now it seems that we have angered the moving air as well. Sand went up, dust covered the car I was in (my brother moaned about how he had just washed the car), and these little rocks, supported by such immense force, hit the car and swayed it from left to right. Up in the sky, floating like jellyfish, were plastic bags. They mimicked the movement of birds. They let themselves enjoy the uncertain and unexpected glory, I watched their flight. The wind picked them up from the roadside floors and threw them up up UP in the air. I thought they seemed bigger than us human beings then. Made by our own hands, littered because of our own insensitivity, left to be trampled upon by passing cattle, but they slowly kill us, but they fly with the support of the wind that whips us with canes of sand. 

Plastic bags often look like birds. Usually, on walks, I have a fright because what I believe to be a terrifying crow is just a black plastic bag unfortunately thrown and configured on a small plant. I wonder if plastic laughs at us, I wonder why we fear the hypothetical rise of robots when we already have a creation that kills us without remorse. Can you wiggle your way out being killed by the plastic overlords by saying “please” and “thank you”? You can choose to avoid artificial intelligence as much as possible but we are all breathing in microplastics.