People come and go, the christening you bless will be the funeral you mourn in less than a century. But people keep saying “I love you”, that has to count for something. -- Anon Guest
"Why, though?" complained Holly. "Why does anything mean anything? It's all... it's all for nothing, in the end."
The Doctor sat by her. "I'm two and a half thousand years old. I've seen worlds born. I've seen worlds die. The same for civilisations. And people. The same levels of crap ebb and flow like the tide, over the centuries."
Holly huffed a laugh at that one.
"And despite it going around and around like merry-go-round, there's people like you. Some of them might even be like me. The people who fight for the slightest shred of hope. The people who believe that tomorrow can be an improvement from today. They're the people you look for. Not the petty disputants constantly whining that life isn't fair."
Holly's gaze flicked to a television, where a man who had no business running a lemonade stand was running a country. Just one tantrum away from destroying the entire world.
"Yes," said The Doctor. "Exactly like him." He guided Holly's eyes away from the oligarchical dictator. Made her look at him. See his dark skin and deep eyes. "That man is in charge, and I look like this. And I still run in and help whenever and wherever I can. No matter what. Because it is right."
Holly sighed. "Please tell me he's an alien bent on destroying or taking over the world? Because then, we could go and defeat him."
The Doctor considered the man on the screen. "With that build and that haircut? He could be a Slitheen... Does he fart a lot?"
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / 3dfoto]
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