Marble's path

The girls sweaty palm encloses on the small round figure. The tiny ball glowing with mischief, gazing at it's new found owner as if to say,"Play with me." The girl giggles with sheer delight, the marble she just found rolling on her hand, like waves of the ocean, up and down, tides ever changing, a confused never ending turmoil. But the marble doesn't seem to mind, it likes the confusion, the unpredictability. It rolls happily in her hand, no complaints, glowing like the sun on water. The girl then drops her new found marble and with tears rolling down her cheeks like tiny badges of loss, she watches her treasure roll into a gutter.

The marble rolls on, not knowing where to go, uncontrolled, rain water rushing over it. The gushes delight the marble, it's luminous complexion one with that of the fresh rain, it keeps moving it's sleek figure running down the gutter as if to get away from everything, a marble on a mission. It races down the tunnel, fighting rushing water to get to a destination not even the marble knows, a place of pleasure, a place of love, the bubbles in the glass stare ahead, looking toward the future like a child's eye on Christmas day, full of bright expectation.

Suddenly it falls into a puddle of muck, it can't move and the marble seems to scream out in desperation, silently pleading to be let loose with it's now tainted glow and cracked exterior. The marble's cheery disposition now gone, swept away like leaves in a quick wind. Melancholy overcomes the marble, trapped in a deep depression, the mourning dew act as tears rolling down the marble's face.

The marble seems to know, as if told by so unnameable force...

that it is...

The end...