Unfinished Story

She had not meant to break the world. Of course that's what anyone would say after finding out that they'd been responsible for such a thing - but she really hadn't. She hadn't even realized it was her fault until much, much later - when the pieces were floating happenstance about the universe, making that lovely little tinkling sound when they bounced together. At least that's how she imagined they sounded - everyone knows you can't hear anything in space.

At any rate - the world broke. It broke because as she was arguing, about what she couldn't even remember any longer, she made a gesture. Yes, a simple gesture broke the world. A gesture toward nothing specific, except maybe her girlfriend's stupid habit of rolling her eyes all the time. She gestured out of frustration and her ring, her shiny little inexpensive silver plated ring flew off of her finger. She didn't even notice. Neither of them did they were so busy spitting and gnashing and being just generally angry.

There they stood, arguing and pulling each others' emotional hair out as her sparkly little ring caught a tail wind and flew right up to the moon. Past a lost red balloon destined for Skenectady, a couple of birds destined for a new nest in warmer climates, past a couple of wishes floating their way to the stars and past the stars themselves to the moon.

FarmBlog

The cool wind rustled through the branches of the avacado trees as she walked the squares of her farm, stopping now and then to caress the soft angora fur of her bunnies. She knew she shouldn't just let them walk about freely, but she couldn't deny the furry creatures their freedom.

As she perused her farm, taking in the sweeping mansion, the windmills, the circus tent and elephants, she wondered what would become of those poor penguins she'd haphazardly adopted. They really had no place on a farm - but she'd taken them in anyway. Maybe they could live with those strange green and pink cows?

She sighed.

Even surrounded by such beauty and the love of so many animals, she was lonely. She'd tried relationships with other farmers before, but they'd all had left her trapped in a square of metaphorical hay bales, unable to tend to her crops the way she knew she should. So many times she'd tried to visit others' farms only to find no one home. She walked the lines of her farm day in and day out. Her only purpose in life to buy larger houses, more vehicles, some hedges. She was isolated, alone. So much worse because she could see the farms and villas of other farmers on the horizon - forever out of reach.