Tangled Thoughts of Tuesdays
Hi all! Today is a slightly more condensed version of my usual writings. I have to make this entry quick. I think it’s more or less
Tuesday, so here’s the writings for the day. It’s a rather short story about the life of a rock.
Once I was molecules, lots of little ones. Many many eons ago, I was sand, lots of grains of weird particles that seemed to be attracted to each other. More recently, I’ve been a rock. Today I live on a planet I call Earth. As a rock, I don’t do much. I like to sit around. I like to ponder. Sometimes, people kick me. That exhilarating feeling of soaring through the air before I land in some brand new patch of grass? That’s awesome.
One time I lived at the bottom of a pond. It was a great big pond, and there was very little light at the bottom of it. There was all kinds of weird creatures sharing that space with me. Strange little crabs with sharp legs, and fish with seven or eight fins and a dull brown colour. That river got frozen out though, and when it thawed, there was a weird looking furry creature that picked me up to try and break a nut. Silly furry creature.
The few years after that, the area became really busy. I was left next to the stream, where the furry creature neglected me, and I saw all kinds of birds and mammals coming to the pond to drink. Over the years, they seem to change in appearance, adapting to surviving in these temperate weathers. One day, I was approached by a man, or what looked like a man. He was quite furry and bigger than most of the bipedal creatures I was familiar with. He picked me up, I guess I just have one of those bodies, and he carried me to his home in the mountains. Up in the mountains, his tribe admired my shape. I was rather pleased with myself, until someone clobbered the large man to death and stole me from his hands. They took me to the mountain side and threw me off, far into the forest.
A long time passed until I had another encounter. One day, some men walked through the forest, examining the general area. Then they started to mark the trees. A few days later, a machine had come and all the trees were gone, along with the grass. The machine carried me up in its arms and lifted me to a pile, where I was dumped. By some odd fortune, I rolled away from the pile as I was dumped and I lay nearby, just outside the pit, admiring the work they were doing, as they tore apart the forest.
As the city was being built, I was picked up by a little child. A boy who had a thing for rocks. Who would’ve thought? He took me to his home, and as he grew up, I met other rocks that he thought were nice-looking too. He’s grown up now, and his mum threw us out in the nearby park.
Boy, I can’t wait for the next time I get picked up.
Tuesday, so here’s the writings for the day. It’s a rather short story about the life of a rock.
Once I was molecules, lots of little ones. Many many eons ago, I was sand, lots of grains of weird particles that seemed to be attracted to each other. More recently, I’ve been a rock. Today I live on a planet I call Earth. As a rock, I don’t do much. I like to sit around. I like to ponder. Sometimes, people kick me. That exhilarating feeling of soaring through the air before I land in some brand new patch of grass? That’s awesome.
One time I lived at the bottom of a pond. It was a great big pond, and there was very little light at the bottom of it. There was all kinds of weird creatures sharing that space with me. Strange little crabs with sharp legs, and fish with seven or eight fins and a dull brown colour. That river got frozen out though, and when it thawed, there was a weird looking furry creature that picked me up to try and break a nut. Silly furry creature.
The few years after that, the area became really busy. I was left next to the stream, where the furry creature neglected me, and I saw all kinds of birds and mammals coming to the pond to drink. Over the years, they seem to change in appearance, adapting to surviving in these temperate weathers. One day, I was approached by a man, or what looked like a man. He was quite furry and bigger than most of the bipedal creatures I was familiar with. He picked me up, I guess I just have one of those bodies, and he carried me to his home in the mountains. Up in the mountains, his tribe admired my shape. I was rather pleased with myself, until someone clobbered the large man to death and stole me from his hands. They took me to the mountain side and threw me off, far into the forest.
A long time passed until I had another encounter. One day, some men walked through the forest, examining the general area. Then they started to mark the trees. A few days later, a machine had come and all the trees were gone, along with the grass. The machine carried me up in its arms and lifted me to a pile, where I was dumped. By some odd fortune, I rolled away from the pile as I was dumped and I lay nearby, just outside the pit, admiring the work they were doing, as they tore apart the forest.
As the city was being built, I was picked up by a little child. A boy who had a thing for rocks. Who would’ve thought? He took me to his home, and as he grew up, I met other rocks that he thought were nice-looking too. He’s grown up now, and his mum threw us out in the nearby park.
Boy, I can’t wait for the next time I get picked up.