Survival of the Fittest
by Bob Brussack
As the celestial soup cools, things jostle, arranging themselves, and this one arrangement, quite by chance and low and behold, commences to making mirror images of itself, pulling pieces together as prelude to sending copies out, and so on and so forth, and the whole thing is felicitously imperfect, hence the variations and the survival of the fittest and yada yada yada for a few billion years and voila, there you are, behind the wheel of your old Ford truck, kicking up the dust of ten thousand days of making your way along the barn road before first light to keep the bargain you made with the bank and your hundred head, twice a day every day until the old ways don’t work and you can’t afford the feed and the note’s overdue and Schumpeter’s gale sweeps you away, survival of the fittest having no soul.
Bob Brussack is an author of poetry and fiction who resides at the moment along the south coast of Ireland. In 2007, he retired after a career on the law faculty of the University of Georgia in the States. His published work may be found at bobincork.com.