Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Waiting For The Sound

We've all had this moment. You're proceeding along doing the stuff you know how to do, have to do, all the time every day to where it's rote and routine.

A glass slips out of your hand. A clear, transparent, self-evident glass, obviously a glass even if looks more like a jar. It's just too soapy, too slippery, too determined even against its own sense of survival. The force of gravity is just too strong.

For an instant it seems to hang there, suspended in mid-air, almost asking you to reach out as if it's reconsidered it's choice.

Maybe you'll be lucky. Maybe that glass is thick enough and sturdy enough to bounce off the floor and roll a little bit. But it's already in motion and it's too late and too futile to try and to change the direction. It might even cut your foot if it lands just wrong, but you're frozen in place and can't move out of the way.

Against your will and wishes, even before it hits, you mentally prepare for the mocking sound of the crash and the sliver-risking clean-up. You try to remember where the dustpan and broom and band-aids are.

That's how this election feels.

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