Marbles (first published on Blue Monster)

The marble rolled about placidly within its jar, pondering the surrealness of life, when suddenly a chubby little hand, all fat rolls and grease, scoped it from the jar and its brethren. Then, as if greasy fingerprints were not insult enough, the chubby hand rolled the marble none too gently so that it collided with a small miserable green sphere of glass.

It was obvious that the green sphere was no marble, not just by the absence of the swirl within but the fact that the collision between them had sent a large chip hurtling away from the green glass sphere. This made the marble sad, for though it was not actually a marble made with tempered glass, it was a glass object and a spherical one at that. It felt an affinity to it and it had grievously injured it.

However, being a marble it could not say anything, not even sorry, and it certainly could not fight back. So it had to endure hours of such treatment which inevitably led to more injured glass spheres and a headache – though as a marble has no head it was technically a marble ache.

Eventually it was placed back into the jar where it sat amongst a sea of its brethren; they begin to scheme. Revenge would be beautiful and possibly cascading and possibly very messy with a few glass jar casualties.

The end

Posted: Thursday, March 10th, 2011 @ 8:14 am
Categories: Flash Fiction.
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