MARBLES

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).