Interdependence

I'm typing on a keyboard which was inspected by a woman at the Dell factory, who gave birth to three children, one of which is currently taking a shower with water that has been obtained from the soil that plays home to millions of earthworms, one of which makes its way to the surface, is snacked on by a bird on a dewy morning, who, stuffed to the gills (so to speak), will fly home to rest in a tree, only to migrate north next summer to Lafayette, Indiana, and, while eating more worms on the road one day, is smacked by a 1987 Buick, thereby ending its life and decomposing into the soil, feeding the tree that, upon it being winter again, will let loose its brown leaves, slowly drifting to the ground, encouraging a little girl named Kalliopi to ask her dad to rake the leaves into a pile for her to play in, which he does, right after sending an email by typing on a keyboard which was inspected...