I imagine me sitting on a street corner somewhere, head down, holding out a cup, hoping someone will come by and drop something in, a coin, maybe a dollar if I’m lucky and they’re feeling generous. People pass by. Some look, some look away. Some speak. “You poor man!” Some say, “Get a job!” Some, very few, stop and ask how I am, how can they help. All kinds of people are on the street, and I’m there too. I’m not sure how I feel about anything. I’m tired. I’m cold. I’m hungry. I’m lonely. I’m sad. I try to remember a life I had, and sometimes I try to forget.

Then I stand up, because I’m only imagining all this.
If I can imagine it, so can anyone.

If we can imagine something like this, we can make sure it doesn’t become real, won’t exist.

People say, “I can’t imagine…”

Yes, we can.