MARBLES
“here we are in our neat little draw-sack,
alone on the patio! The boy has
forgotten where he left us, but at least this way he is not handling us; so
sticky! Cold, separate, sterile – it’s
the perfect life! Hey! Stop touching me;
stay in your own little sphere, your own space – you cat-eye; I am a
crystal! But, at least you are not an
aggie.”
“look! What’s going on with that bag of
charcoal? Those briquettes look a bit
like us; they just need to some refinement, maybe? But, what are they doing to them?! They are stacked in a neat pile in that
pit?! Why?! And they are glowing?! I knew they were different; softies!”
“Now
what? Those tumblers full of ice
cubes! They look like us! But, what’s happening? They are floating in coke, bubbling and
cracking?! They are getting smaller and
disappearing? And the cola is going flat
and getting weaker?! Allowing warmth is
the problem. Need to stay cool.”
“OMG! Just look at those people, praying, in a
circle, agh! Holding hands! And now they
are sitting around the table, laughing and eating. High-fiving and knee-slapping over the same
sappy stories. They actually seem to like
being with each other?!”
“pitiful! Look at that.
Not enough chairs so they brought their buddy a bean bag?! A BEAN BAG!
Talking about a bunch of wimps who have lost their marbles! No stones! They are all mushy lumps congealed into a
blob shaped like somebody’s backside! Ha!
TG that I am a marble!”
“Yes! Look at that pile of gravel around the prickly
pear. They are like us, solid, separate,
stoic stones! But, what, what is that
guy doing? No! surely not?! I guess he drank too much cola. Poor guys, now they are all wet. Should have stayed in a bag.”
“hey?! Is
anybody listening to me? Hey! Anybody there?” (of course, these observations
and conversation never took place; marbles are much too self-absorbed).
