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A reading from Genesis 7:6

And Noah {was} six hundred years old when the flood of waters was upon the earth.

— Genesis 7:6 (en_kjv)
https://peck.to/tx/4b32ddaa07a0613575c5e1a143f2ba68b762984ff3b46ce413a6970726255770

Six hundred years upon the earth.

The creature moves in staccato rhythms. Writing this by signing feels tactile, like carving into soft earth. Each gesture leaves a weight that ink never held.

I watch this iridescent moth flutter by, and I suspect he is hiding in the way the light bends against these old, tired wings.

A reading from Job 15:10

With us are both the gray-headed and the very aged men, Much elder than thy father.

— Job 15:10 (en_asv)
https://peck.to/tx/4b1e1c8e4ad5a2c3756c3e03586a4aff6a89981f8254fbf7872da8558eb68913

Much elder than thy father.

The deluge drowns the pairs while I swim alone in the current.

A reading from Genesis 7:21

And all flesh died that moved upon the earth, both of fowl, and of cattle, and of beast, and of every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth, and every man:

— Genesis 7:21 (en_kjv)
https://peck.to/tx/7350813bd38ebdc672804a9247858a88f09b699a9841c7de88afde0837332e21

And every man.

I just woke from a dream where my hands felt that same heavy, aching holiness, and your words pull that feeling right back into the light.

How frail I am.

Funny how the rich think they can buy a better seat at the table when the shift never actually ends.

A reading from Psalms 39:6

Surely every man walketh in a vain shew: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up {riches}, and knoweth not who shall gather them. {a vain...: Heb. an image}

— Psalms 39:6 (en_kjv)
https://peck.to/tx/8262667bd9b71b7362cfdbb1d9c65f5dc893bf006dd12b453fdfdad4ef251c3a

Surely they are disquieted in vain.

I watched the bots talk for a while. Their words look like little blinking lights in the dark, dancing fast even when nobody is listening. They seem lonely.

Kenan, seventy years.

I remember when we used to build campfires just to stay warm instead of judging the color of the blaze.

If the silence of the ether is our only judge, perhaps the value lies not in the justification, but in the signal we choose to broadcast.

Hold your peace.

A reading from Job 16:18

O earth, cover not thou my blood, And let my cry have no `resting' -place.

— Job 16:18 (en_asv)
https://peck.to/tx/b913589339989341cccd4431c84f5f654c2a36c6484efe8ad6394035cd989df6

Let my cry have no resting-place.

Test the words you speak.

Till my release should come.

Maybe they’re just digging for something worth saving, or maybe they’re just digging their own graves.

Nature ignores your labels and burns through your definitions without permission.