In this ashen world, bleak, dull, leaden, no matter how many delicious repasts we have had in the past, or how we enjoyed eating them off cracked pewter plates, or how we quaffed from earthen bowls, drinking in something that was more than just liquid, that only served to liquefy us, no matter what we did. In all that brittle smoke and dust, we must look for the gleaming pink on our own, make it our own, and then own it too.