The Little Stone

This is a little story I wrote back in April. I like to get a little fancy when I write whats on my mind. I have to hunt for the perfect word because using the right word can make or break your story and correctly express your feelings.

A little stone, porous, irregular and uneven. It sits in the dark, surrounded by silence and forlornness. Floating right up there, in the recesses, up in that corner. Do you see it? Do you feel it yet? Its presence is unbeknownst, for without consciously seeking it out, it would flutter from existence.

Suddenly, a great heavy mass surrounds the stone, threatening all its force upon it. There is little darkness left between the stone and the great mass. Drudgingly, this eminent peril engulfs the remaining nothingness that once held that stone so delicately. The stone’s lowly and meager life is at stake. There is nowhere for the little stone to go, it cannot escape this ostensible
destiny that is deliberately eating up the freedom it held just moments ago. The mass draws near, dawdling...

Darkness. The little stone is hurled into darkness! No more naïveté. No more bliss. No more sauntering. No more……….nothing. The great mass has won! Yet another lowly life, swiftly and
selfishly taken. Ah, but do not fear, for patterns can be broken. But is it true? Can this little stone defeat this hungry giant? Can it change what has happened oh so many countless times before?

The great mass presses its strength in on the little stone. It pulsates inward, surrounding the little stone with all the force it can muster. Over and over again it squeezes the lowly life force,
breaking its will, its
felicity, our confidence. ....

Then, heat. Radiating heat from the center of the great mass. It starts out warm, a pleasant, comforting sensation, one that calms and relaxes those in its presence. It sluggishly increases its power to a temperature that begins to become uncomfortable for its occupants. Then, a blinding light. Nothing is visible. Nothing is heard. Just….feelings. Again, feelings! A blanket of light covers that place, that recess, up in that corner. Nothingness. But this time, a good nothingness. The silence returns. The forlornness accompanies. But this time, oh this time, something has changed. Is this, appreciation? Yes. Regard. Esteem and respect. Yes. But for what? For whom? For the great mass? Maybe. No, not maybe, yes. Definitely yes. With time it becomes a yes. Not its existence, nor its actions, nor its hunger for the little stone. No no no, not for any of those reasons. But because of what it caused the stone to become. For through all this toil and trouble and expenditure, this enfeebled stone emerged.

It emerged smooth and polished. Restored to an even better state. It is not hard in that it has no feelings. It is strong, ready to face another day, ready to face the next great mass that is sure to
come its way. Yes, it is inevitable. Yes, it will come again, maybe even soon. But the little stone will prevail. It will become smoother, stronger, and better. It will not become perfect, for if it did, well why would I waste time telling you this story? That’s now how things work out. That’s not reality. But it will become all the wiser. It will live on and retell this story to others who need
to hear it, when they need to hear it

Don’t believe me? Why don’t you ask?

Go on.

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