the bullet's track

There is something like a lullaby rising up out of this Guardian story about ammunition and guns and death and the randomness that passes by in the night like some long-haul tractor-trailer.

It pays not to think too hard about making bullets on the Winchester Ammunition production line.
“I know personally that I have blood on my hands,” says Birham, who has spent most of his adult life putting together the cartridge cases and lethal lead tips that take 35 lives a day in the US alone. “I’ve made bullets for civilians, for the army. Over the course of 25 years I’ve made millions of bullets. You can’t sit here and say not one of those bullets you have touched has murdered someone. All of us who made them have blood on our hands.”

But for all that horror -- and it's something -- the tale strikes me as less lawsy-lawsy and more ... more what? More time passing, perhaps. There's stuff that happens ... like early Thornton Wilder books. You can take it personally and the question has to be asked, "who wouldn't?" But also ... also ... also the sun travels from horizon to horizon. Life does not bemoan life.