I sat heavily on the bus, my heart hanging low in my chest, thinking about how life is a series of funerals. Next to me, the sky glowed between darkening buildings. Their silhouettes stacked up, almost on top of each other, leaving enough room for the skyline but too little space for the sky. The sun could dart from behind one to the next without being seen. The row of buildings ended, and my breath filled the space where my heart had been. Before me was a glowing set of orange bones. A perfect pelvis and stomach cavity, cut through the middle by a contrail. A sliver of a fingernail, the moon, hung next to it. Wispy clouds, like hair, were strewn all around. Slowly, the bones started to break and the fingernail thicken. Before my eyes, the hair turned a dark gray as the sun finally sank below the horizon.