They appear as strangers I know in a fictional life. While gathered together, we sip hot beverages, and the talk is about “nothing,” and it’s clear “nothing” really seems to matter. I imbibe and look around at the faces of the strangers; perhaps to glimpse “something” through the shadow clouding the beliefs of those with whom I pass the time, dreary. Behold! It appears “nothing” has not changed. I finish my drink and politely retire from the company of the strangers with the sincere hope our next encounter will prove “nothing” has changed.