Sunday, April 29, 2012

Watch for Falling Rocks

Oh man, I was doing well. Making mountains out of mole hills. Forgetting the past pains and pleas with an unknown higher-up, chanted mantras of things I'd be willing to trade. A tiny pebble began rolling down the hill of my serene reverie, a pebble I didn't know about, a pebble that turned into a few stones that turned into an all-out rumbling mountain of things rather recently buried, but still largely out of my memory. Oh pebble, had I known about you I surely would have swept you up into my pocket and jingle-jangled out a tune with you, fueled by the knowledge that my reverie was nearly corrupted, wistfully getting out a "Whew, that was a close one!" But nay, Someone dislodged you and didn't take heed of my warnings about rolling pebbles. I was an experiment gone wrong. An "I told you so" that backfired, with miserable consequences. I will build up dams in the dry desert sun to maybe stop you. You may use them as a ramp to catch some air or you may decide to take a rest, at least for awhile. Signs touting "Watch for falling rocks" are now being stoutly posted along the roadway, along with nets of chain-link spread like butter on bread across the most dangerous areas. You've got me running now, Pebble, but I will secure the tender still-safe regions and do my best to carry on. I've got my eye on you.

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