One way-One story, is the story of a book, one that we rarely hear. A story that contains the murmur of trees, the drone of machines, the smell of acid and bleach, the moistness of water, and the sighs of the planet.
When descriptors are erased, what we have is a set of common nouns -- nothing special about it. We don't have to live with the burden of special, if we don't wish to. There's freedom in that. To an ordinary year, of ordinary actions that won't wear us down. May all beings be happy.