OP-ED: Bucolia, the continuum

The ongoing reflections of a curious soul in uncertain times. The blare of a horn shatters my reverie. The routine of the robot has already taken over the recent convert, the faint strain in the legs the only reminder of the miles consumed. The morning walk momentarily thrown out of gear, I instinctively step on to the slender pavement ringing the blocks on the outer perimeter and cast around for the source of disturbance.