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  • Yvonne Yuan

10:27am, sitting in a cemetery in Nagasaki (2017)

The world is colossal.

A few pieces of land and bodies of water cannot easily make up the earth. Space is only the horizontal axis.

As for the vertical, we call it time, measured by days, seconds, and microscopic units. The world morphs.

High-speed camera bursts snap one million shots every ten seconds. Each image aligns, but imperfectly.

Subtle nuances exist between frames.

In the ten seconds that dene this moment, the red light turns green, the current in the sea shifts, and I walk out of my tiny apartment.

The next ten seconds, clouds drift to envelop the moon; stray cats that were caterwauling fall into deep sleep, I take the trash out.

In a certain ten seconds in this timeline Earth-shattering and catastrophic things happen; they change the trajectory of the world eortlessly. Wars break out, forest res spread, asteroids crater the Earth.

If you glance over at the Earth then, you must be startled.

Of course there will also be great happiness: the invention of the airplane; the liberation of a nation. A certain ten seconds may be important to you, but it does not change the essence of the world.

After countless ten-second bursts, you and I are erased. Intersections turn into desert. The sky turns red.

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